Your Eyes at Sunset
by CDrake
Summary: Months after a violent stalemate leaves him severely wounded, the Last Dragonborn is made aware of a grave threat rising in the west of Skyrim. With the very sun under attack from this ancient enemy, a new hope arises from the most unexpected of places, sparking a legendary adventure that could rekindle his faith in both humanity and himself...if he survives.
1. Awakening

"Wake up."

The quiet but firm statement snapped a pair of murky blue eyes open faster than the sound of aggressive shouting. The subject of the command was well used to such sudden interruptions to his sleep cycle, and thus was no longer fazed much by the quick retreat of slumber into the far corners of his mind on waking. Indeed, a mere two seconds after being jolted awake, he had both feet planted firmly on the ground and was in the process of rising when he felt a firm but gentle hand on his chest.

"Easy, Lord Dov. I just wanted to let you know your guest has arrived."

After he blankly blinked up at his rouser a few times, she gave a few more words by way of explanation.

"The guest from Dawnstar."

His expression immediately sharpened, and he passed one hand over his cobwebbed features as the other reached for a set of clothes. "Thank you, Lydia. Tell him I'll be right down."

The older Nord woman bowed her head slightly. "At once, my Thane."

Closing his eyes, he rolled them behind his eyelids at his housecarl's formality, blindly dressing himself and rising to pull a pair of well-worn leather boots on. Lacing up his shirt and jacket, he trudged toward his bedroom door and lazily pushed it open, striding toward the nearby staircase. The arched eyebrow of his Redguard guest was proof enough of the other man's surprise at his entrance, an occurrence he had no time to analyze before an explanation was given.

"Why the heavy tread, Listener?" He smirked. "Hagraven cast a hex on your steps?"

He snorted. "Ha. As if." He approached the other man and clasped his forearm in greeting. "And when we're alone, it's Ketar."

The Redguard smiled wider. "Of course, Listener."

Ketar rolled his eyes good-naturedly and silently offered his guest a seat by the hearth. Only when they were both seated and presented with drinks did he speak again. "So, what news from the Sanctuary?"

"No different from the last time I visited. And I say _I_ visited because _you_ haven't been up there in…oh, about three months now."

"Given what you've heard about recent events, can you really blame me?"

He frowned. "I suppose not, but given your status, it's hardly good form for you to be missing for such long periods."

Ketar shrugged. "On the contrary, Nazir. Our Brotherhood hadn't had a proper Listener for _generations_ before I showed up, and it ran just fine. From what I hear, you and Babette have been doing an equally fine job."

Nazir frowned deeper. "And Cicero—"

"I know you dislike jesters—"

"Putting it mildly," he grumbled.

"—but for my sake, try not to shank him in his sleep. You know Mother gets cross whenever she sees you fingering your knife while staring at him with a complete lack of subtlety."

"Actually I didn't, and what is she going to do? Tell you to put a contract out on me?"

Ketar laughed. "I wouldn't put it past her. Whatever she was in her past life, that woman is one vindictive cur." He shrugged. "Besides, that's one order I could never follow."

Nazir arched an eyebrow. "Too loyal to turn out a friend?"

"No." He smirked. "Too proud to let anyone kill you but me."

The Redguard smiled. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

"I figured as much," Ketar replied, taking a long drag of his mead. Half a minute of silence passed before he looked over at Nazir with a critical eye. "What else?"

"Excuse me?"

A sigh. "Nazir, these visits invariably end with you telling me some juicy tidbit of gossip or rumor, usually with a sinister smile involuntarily pasted to your lips. Yet throughout this visit, you've had a near-constant frown. What gives?"

The Redguard pursed his lips tightly, leaning forward in his seat. "On my last visit to the Sanctuary, Babette informed me of a…situation brewing in the east."

Ketar's eyebrows furrowed. "Go on."

"Old and connected as she is in the vampire world, she caught wind of something she found rather troubling. Word of a new group of bloodletters, called the Dawnguard. Word is, they're gearing up for a major vampire hunt in the imminent future, and based on their history, they are _not_ playing around."

Ketar arched an eyebrow. "I didn't know there was enough of a vampire presence in Skyrim to warrant such measures. Is there?"

" _They_ certainly seem to think so, and what Babette has heard about their leader isn't encouraging. I know you've no innate love for the nightwalkers, but—"

"For Babette's sake, I'll look into it. Any leads worth mentioning?"

"Apparently, they've sent out an open call for prospective hunters to sign up at a fort in the east that bears their name. It's nestled in the mountains just north of Stendarr's Beacon, reachable only through a pass called Dayspring Canyon."

Ketar nodded slowly, fingers steepled as he stared into the hearth. "I'll leave as soon as I've had some breakfast. Speaking of which, would you like to stay? Lydia makes quite the horker steak."

Nazir smiled and waved him off, rising to his feet. "Thank you, but no. I've already taken up too much of your time, and I have other engagements."

Ketar smirked. "A steamy rendezvous?"

"If by 'steamy' you mean the state of spilled blood, then yes."

The younger man sighed and shook his head as he stood with a smile, once again clasping forearms with his friend. "May your feet be swift and your blade silent."

"As they are always, Listener."

Ketar watched him go with an absent look on his face and his mind running in a thousand different directions.

"So, two satchels for the road?"

His head snapped to his smirking housecarl with an amused air. "You know me so well."

She smiled wider. "I'd better. I take better care of you than you do. I daresay without me, you'd be skin and bones by now."

"Or have bled out by the wayside after taking on one too many trolls."

"Hm," she hummed back at him absently as she wrapped the aforementioned meals. "Or mauled by a pack of wolves."

"Desiccated by a giant spider."

Lydia wrinkled her nose. "Shackled and enslaved by Falmer."

"Roasted alive by—"

They both stopped short, and the room fell eerily silent as Ketar's gaze shifted to stare at the floor.

"Let's," he started with a roughness to his voice, "just agree that my life is better with you in it than out."

Lydia just nodded silently and finished her wrapping as her Thane pulled the last of his armor on. His slightly shorter form now sported a full set of enchanted black leather armor, the hood pulled back for the moment as he strode over to her with whisper-quiet steps. She gingerly handed him the bundle, and he took it without a word, slinging it over his shoulder as he made his way to the door.

"Ketar."

He stopped short and looked back.

"I could go with—"

"Thank you, Lydia…but no. I…" he sighed hard, "I need to learn to walk on my own again." He took another moment to brood before smiling back at her. "Besides, Whiterun's become a bit of a danger zone lately. Can't afford to leave the valuables unguarded."

Lydia shot him a peeved look, but shook her head in acquiescence. "Be careful, milord."

"I will," he replied firmly.

A moment later, he was out the door.

…

In the midst of opportunely refilling a flask at the body of water Dayspring Canyon was no doubt named after, Ketar felt a presence approach from behind, excited and nervous, by the way his steps were bouncing.

"Oh, hey there. You here to join the Dawnguard too?"

Ketar turned to see a young Nord man with long blond hair, little more than a teenager to his eyes. He frowned at the question, then turned back toward the castle. "Intrigued by them, more like." He took a breath and resumed climbing the path to the front gate. "I'm reserving judgment until I know more."

"Well, uh, I suppose that's a wise enough decision. Wouldn't want to rope yourself into anything unseemly so soon in your life."

Ketar arched an eyebrow at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The Nord chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, uh…I guess what I mean to say is, you've got your whole life ahead of you, right? That is, you don't really _seem_ all that much older than me..."

When his sentence dropped off, an awkward silence descended over the pair.

"Eh…truth is, I'm a little nervous."

Ketar glanced over at his companion, who was nervously wringing his hands.

"I've never done anything like this before." He looked up at Ketar excitedly, his movements erratic. "I hope you don't mind if I walk up with you. Hey, uh, don't tell Isran I was afraid to meet him by himself." He shrugged. "Not the best first impression for a new vampire hunter, I guess."

Despite the seriousness of his mission, Ketar couldn't help but restrain laughter.

"Y-You've probably killed lots of vampires, huh?"

His mirth immediately vanished.

"I'm sure Isran will sign you right up. Not sure he'll take me. I hope so." They strode on in silence for a while, the young man's eyes widening after a while. "That must be it. Fort Dawnguard..." His jaw dropped. "Wow. Bigger than I expected."

Ketar Niel Dov didn't consider himself a myopic person. In truth, he believed quite the opposite was true. But as he approached the ruins of Fort Dawnguard, he couldn't help but feel a brief but massive sense of underwhelm. The castle was impressive, to be sure, but its state of disrepair was, well…deplorable, to be quite frank.

"I'm Agmaer, by the way," said the blond with an extension of his hand.

The hooded man glanced his way and grasped the appendage firmly. "Ketar."

He frowned a little. "Interesting name. Redguard?"

His head shook. "Breton."

"I was going to say: you don't _look_ Redguard. Still. Strange name for a Breton."

Ketar smirked wryly. "Well, I'm glad I've run across someone well-traveled enough to say so."

The immediate blush that stole across his cheeks said otherwise, as expected. Agmaer just gave another nervous laugh and kept walking toward the gate alongside Ketar.

Agmaer leaned over to whisper to Ketar. "Where is everybody?" he asked as they caught a glimpse of a Breton man manning the gate. "This place looks almost deserted."

Ketar simply pursed his lips and approached the sentry, who was clad head to toe in interlocked plates of lamellar armor.

The man crossed his arms and studied them both with an appraising air. "New recruits?"

Agmaer nodded emphatically, while Ketar gave a small tilt of his head.

"Hm. Isran will decide if you've got what it takes." He nodded toward the gate. "Go on, he's right inside."

Ketar took and released a long breath as he put his gloved palms up to the massive doors. Exchanging a look with his Nord companion, they pushed forward together and were immediately rewarded with a large, sunlit atrium cylindrical in shape, with a second-floor overlook running around the circumference of the central chamber. The sunlight immediately drew Ketar's attention to another armored figure, a Redguard standing in the center of the room, every inch of him save his head covered in the same armor as the sentry. At present, he was arguing with a man in armored robes. Though at a distance, Ketar's keenly-trained ears picked up most of their conversation.

"Why are you here, Tolan?" asked the armored man, Isran, he'd guess. "The Vigilants and I were finished with each other a long time ago."

"You know why I'm here," the "Vigilant" answered. "The Vigilants are under attack everywhere. The vampires are much more dangerous than we believed."

Isran's tone immediately became agitated. "And now you want to come running to safety with the Dawnguard, is that it?" His voice kept becoming increasingly hostile. "I remember Keeper Carcette telling me repeatedly that Fort Dawnguard is a crumbling ruin, not worth the expense and manpower to repair. And now that you've stirred up the vampires against you, you come begging for my protection?"

The Vigilant's voice became so quiet, even Ketar could barely hear. "Isran, Carcette is dead. The Hall of the Vigilants...everyone...they're all dead. You were right, we were wrong. Isn't that enough for you?"

Isran's eyes widened just slightly, his face falling and facing the ground as his tone softened. "Yes…well…I never wanted any of this to happen. I tried to warn all of you." He paused for a while. "I…I am sorry, you know." Suddenly, he stopped short and glanced to his side, gaze keenly sweeping over the two new arrivals. "So who are you?" He asked harshly. "What do you want?"

Ketar could _feel_ Agmaer pale at his side, and stepped forward to take the heat off him. "I heard you were looking for vampire hunters."

"Hmph. You heard right. I'm glad word's finally starting to get around…but that means it won't be long before the vampires start to take notice as well." He looked Ketar over appraisingly. "Mind taking off the hood?"

Ketar bowed his head slightly as he complied. "Not at all. Though I'm curious as to why."

Isran drew close and pored over the Breton's face and eyes, though most intently his eyes. "Hm. Easier to tell if you're a vampire if your face isn't cloaked in shadow."

Ketar arched an eyebrow. "Paranoid much?"

Isran crossed his arms. "When dealing with these fiends, a little paranoia keeps you alive."

He shrugged. "Fair enough."

"So, you never answered my question—who are you?"

Ketar smiled a little. "My name is Ketar Niel Dov, but as for who I am…well, to be frank, the list of titles _is_ rather long." He started counting with his fingers. "Guildmaster, Companion, Arch-Mage…but I think the only one you'll recognize is…Dovahkiin. Or, in the common tongue, Dragonborn."

Isran's left eyebrow shot upward curiously. "So _you're_ the one all of Skyrim's been gossiping about for the last two years."

He chuckled. "Unfortunately, yes."

His arms crossed. "They say you're some sort of…legendary hero, meant to save the world or some rot."

Ketar winced. "Don't believe everything you hear. There's a big difference between hero and celebrity."

Isran's head cocked slightly. "And which are you?"

Ketar's gaze sharpened. "The kind that doesn't require grandstanding."

Their eyes locked for a few moments before the Redguard tilted his head ever so slightly. "I think you'll do just fine."

"Glad to hear it," replied Ketar with a tilt of his head. "Now, what's this 'vampire problem' you're on about?" He motioned to Tolan. "Your friend mentioned something about the Vigilants."

"I'm afraid," Tolan interrupted, "the Vigilants are no more. Some coven of vampires attacked our stronghold out of nowhere, razed it to the ground. Not a single soul survived."

Ketar's eyes widened. "Not one?"

Tolan's head shook.

"But…the Vigilants are experienced fighters. You take on _Daedra_ , for Shor's sake!"

"Daedra _worshippers_ ," Isran amended with a disdainful glance at Tolan. "There's a difference."

Ketar looked off to the side, eyes drifting back to the tense pair. "What can I do to help?"

Isran snapped back to the Breton with a fire burning in his eyes. "I need someone out in the field, taking the fight to the damn vampires while we're getting the fort back in shape." He nodded toward the Vigilant. "Tolan was telling me about some cave that the Vigilants were poking around in. Seemed to think it was more related to these recent vampire attacks." He looked toward the man in question. "Tolan, tell him about, what was it, Dimhollow?"

"Yes," he replied gravely, "that's it. Dimhollow Crypt. Brother Adalvald was sure it held some long-lost vampire artifact of some kind. We didn't listen to him any more than we did Isran." His face darkened. "He was at the Hall when it was attacked..."

"That's good enough for me," Isran interrupted before turning to Ketar. "Go see what the vampires were looking for in this Dimhollow Crypt. With any luck, they'll still be there. Here, you should take a crossbow." He reached for the back of his belt and handed the device in question to Ketar. "Good for taking out those fiends before they get close. Feel free to poke around the fort and take what you need. There isn't much yet, but you're welcome to anything you can use."

Ketar bowed his head slightly. "My thanks."

"I'll meet you at Dimhollow," said Tolan. "It's the least I can do to avenge my fallen comrades."

Isran turned to him in concern. "Tolan, I don't think that's a good idea. You Vigilants were never trained for—"

"I know what you think of us," Tolan interrupted sharply. "You think we're soft, that we're cowards. You think our deaths proved our weakness. Stendarr grant that you do not have to face the same test and be found wanting." He turned to the Dragonborn. "I'm going to Dimhollow Crypt. Perhaps I can be of some small assistance to you."

Ketar glanced over at Isran's grim expression, then gave a small nod to the Vigilant.

Tolan nodded back and left a few moments later.

Ketar's blue eyes drifted to the crossbow and the small quiver of bolts that was hanging from its trigger.

"You there, boy," said Isran suddenly, causing Agmaer to jump. "Stop skulking in the shadows and step up here. What's your name?

Turning for the exit gate, Ketar paused to place a hand on Agmaer's shoulder. "Good luck, friend."

He caught smatterings of their first exchanges as he went out the door.

"Hmm...farm boy, eh? What's your weapon?"

"Uh, my weapon? I mostly just use my pa's axe, when wolves are attacking the goats or something."

"'My pa's axe.'" A sigh. "Stendarr preserve us. Don't worry, I think we can make a Dawnguard out of you."

With that, Ketar finally let out the laughter he'd been suppressing as he stepped out into the light.

…

While the journey to Dimhollow Crypt was surprisingly uneventful, a feeling of ominous foreboding never left Ketar's bones the whole time. The last time he'd felt anything so dark and powerful was…an uncomfortably recent experience he'd have preferred not to think about so soon…or ever. Shoving those thoughts away, he ran a hand over his new crossbow, pulling back the crank to draw the string and place a bolt in its firing chamber.

 _Hm…never used one of these before._

He took aim at a snow-laden crag on the path ahead as cold snow bit into the exposed parts of his face, forcing him to squint. Taking his finger off the trigger, Ketar slung the weapon onto the back of his belt and swept his eyes over his surroundings. Though barely visible in the blizzard, he could just make out the dark fissure of a cave entrance ahead, no doubt the crypt's entrance. He made for it immediately, finding himself stopping just outside and peering into a wall of pitch blackness. His eyes shut and squeezed tightly, a long breath inhaled and exhaled as he took his first steps inside.

His first impression of Dimhollow Crypt was that even the air felt very much like…well, a crypt. Like the other ruins he'd visited during his time in Skyrim, the air felt close and alive in a sickening, rotting way, but rarely had he also felt so cold. His right hand reached down to unsling his new crossbow, eyes sweeping over his darkened surroundings as they slowly adjusted to the poor lighting.

"These Vigilants never know when to give up."

The voice immediately brought Ketar to a cautious halt.

"I thought we'd taught them enough of a lesson at their hall."

The Breton's hooded head peeked out from behind a massive stalactite to see two vampires standing over Vigilant Tolan's bloody corpse, a steel warhammer still clutched tightly in his death grip. Ketar let out a small sigh of resignation.

"To come in here alone," said another, "a fool like all the rest of them."

Ketar's teeth gritted as he moved around to their blind spot, slowly falling to one knee to take aim.

"He fought well enough though. Jeron and Bresoth were no match for him."

"Ha. Those two deserved what they got. Their arrogance had become insufferable."

Ketar braced the crossbow against his shoulder, still not used to the weight but finding it manageable enough.

"All this talk is making me thirsty. Perhaps another Vigilant will wander in soon."

"I wish Lokil would hurry it up. I have half a mind to return to the castle and tell Harkon what a fool he's entrusted this mission to."

Dov's tense finger paused on the trigger. _Harkon?_ He slowly lowered the crossbow as he tuned his ears to their speech and one vampire turned to the other.

"And I have half a mind to tell Lokil of your disloyalty."

His companion whirled on him, baring his fangs. "You wouldn't dare. Now shut up and keep on watch."

They did just that, and with a disappointed air, Ketar took aim once more, keen ears catching something…unusual as something equally so in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He turned slowly, eyes widening comically as he caught sight of it: a large hound, with bared teeth and fur black as night. Its collar glinted in the faint light of the tomb's lit sconces, and its eyes bored dangerously into Ketar's.

He put his first bolt between its eyes without hesitation.

Upon hearing the death hound's death cry, the vampires and another cursed canine took off running for Ketar. Unsure of his exact position, the vampires and their familiar ran toward the death hound's corpse, missing the living shadow that passed behind their backs. The second hound joined his kin with a whine a moment later, its masters whirling about just in time for one to get a cruelly curved dagger to the heart. The stricken vampire wheezed uncontrollably as his comrade caught and lowered him to the floor.

"I can't—" he wheezed, "how is—"

"Don't overthink it," Ketar half-growled as he lunged forward, kicking the other vampire into a rock formation and forcefully yanking the Blade of Woe from its current sheath.

The "living" vampire sprung upright quickly and prepared an all-too familiar spell in his left hand while his right brandished an iron axe. It barely cleared its holster before Ketar's blade pirouette separated his head from his body. Both were reduced to ash in seconds, their armor and weapons all that were left behind. Glancing over their remains, he took a moment to retrieve his two fired bolts and reload his crossbow, then moved on deeper into the tomb.

To say Dimhollow Crypt was large would be like comparing a dragon to an ox-cart. If he weren't on such a dire mission, Ketar might've been impressed by the sheer scope of the place. As with many such locations in Skyrim, however, the path into the deepest parts of the catacombs was fraught with far too many dangers to permit such unbridled admiration. He made a mental note to come back when the place was fully cleansed, probably with Brelyna or Onmund to catalogue the Nordic relics littering the place. A dozen or so vampires (not including their thralls and familiars) later, Ketar found himself entering a large underground rotunda in the deepest part of Dimhollow Crypt.

Crouching at the top of a set of crumbling stairs, he peered through his hood at yet another group of vampires below, two thralls guarding the stairs. Ketar's eyes widened in alarm as he registered the pained cries of a living man somewhere below and strained his senses to pick him out of the darkness. Failing this, he grimaced and put a hand over his opening mouth.

" _Laas-Yah-Nir_ ," came an echoing whisper, and upon opening his eyes, Ketar could see the faint auras of no less than seven entities, one of them sitting lower than the others, no doubt the vampires' prisoner. He could just make out their speech.

"I'll never tell you anything. My oath to Stendarr is stronger than any suffering you can inflict on me."

"I believe you, Vigilant. And I don't think you even know what you've found here. So go and meet your beloved Stendarr."

Ketar's hands twitched around his crossbow, desperately trying to aim before—

 _Shick!_

The Dragonborn's teeth clenched as he lowered the weapon, fingers whitening around its frame when he spotted the massive bloodstains marring a stone platform below.

"Are you sure that was wise, Lokil?" asked one of the vampires. "He still might have told us something. We haven't gotten anywhere ourselves with—"

"He knew nothing," Lokil interrupted, oblivious to the fact that the hunter was becoming the hunted. "He served his purpose by leading us to this place. Now it is up to us to bring Harkon the prize. And we will not return without it."

Ketar's stormy blue eyes narrowed as he pulled himself atop a crumbling stone arch, drawing his crossbow and taking aim at Lokil's heart. _Second time I've heard about this "Harkon." He must be the head of the coven._

"Vingalmo and Orthjolf will make way for me after this," Lokil continued, striding toward a bridge that led deeper into the crypt.

Two other vampires followed behind him towing blank-faced thralls.

One spoke up with a supplicant tone. "Yes, of course Lokil. Do not forget who brought you news of the Vigilants' discovery."

Lokil stopped short to fix the speaker with a piercing gaze. "I never forget who my friends are. Or my enemies."

 _Then you'll never forget me, monster._

A loud _twang_ split the still air of the crypt as Ketar released his bolt, but Lokil whirled faster than he'd expected, pulling one of the thralls between him and the projectile. A large, blank-faced Nord starting falling as Lokil drew a steel sword from his hip and summoned an ice spike with his left hand. His two lackeys also brandished weapons, but were nowhere near as fast as their master, as Ketar cut down one with his next shot with relative ease. Quickly tracing the shot to its source, Lokil fired his spike into the darkness with surprising accuracy over such a distance. Despite this, Ketar managed to roll out of the way in time and raise his crossbow for another shot.

The other vampire at Lokil's side was struck in the shoulder but kept coming, along with two more thralls. Gritting his teeth, Ketar reloaded his crossbow and swung it butt-first at an incoming ice spike, shattering the magic crystal and lining up a shot at one of the thralls. He aimed for its rear leg and fired before it could finish transferring its weight to the front, tripping it and the thrall that came at its back. Ducking under another ice spike, Ketar held his left hand out to the side and felt the familiar pull of Magnus' might as magicka flowed through the appendage and summoned an explosive ball of fire. With the lesser vampire and his thralls slowed on the steps, he cast his spell right in the center and was rewarded with a cluster of screams as they stumbled about in a panic before falling over dead or over the side of the treacherous drop.

Lokil roared his rage at the loss as he sent another two ice spikes in Ketar's direction, the Breton finally having enough of this long-range encounter as he stowed his crossbow. He seamlessly somersaulted backward off the arch, left hand once again flaring with magic as an Aetherial cable anchored itself to the stone structure and allowed him to swing toward the lower platform unharmed—and hit the ground running to boot. The cable vanished as he summoned a magical ward with his off-hand while his right reached to his back to grasp a leather-wrapped hilt. Two more ice spikes shattered against his ward as he kept running, a 42-inch longsword made of the finest Skyforge steel clearing its sheath with a metallic _shing_ when he got within twelve paces of the fiend.

Lokil snarled and met his first strike with the strength one would expect from such an inhuman creature, nearly knocking Ketar's sword from his hand. Anticipating this result, Ketar spun his body with the recoil, regaining his grip over the weapon and using his clockwise movement to make a twirling strike at Lokil's neck. The vampire ducked with inhuman speed, thrusting under Ketar's sword in an attempt to end the fight quickly. Ketar simply dropped his arms and the hilt of the sword, catching the thrust with the flat of his blade and shunting it downward. In the same movement, he transitioned into a stab aimed at the vampire's heart, which was dodged with predictable ease.

Lokil twirled around him, the red tails of his armored robes flapping like a set of unholy wings as Ketar dive-rolled away to get some distance. He immediately rose to a crouch, tip of his blade pointed outward as he coiled up to leap in one direction or the other. The vampire's glowing eyes bore holes in Ketar's skull from across the darkness, said darkness deepening when Lokil motioned to the braziers at his left and right and snuffed them out with a burst of magic. An old familiar chill crept down Ketar's spine as he peered into the pitch blackness, his own breathing entirely too loud in his ears as he focused on calming himself.

A small shuffle was heard from behind, prompting him to turn toward it partway, but whirl in the other direction when he _felt_ more than heard a presence approach from that end. His sword swung twice wildly—high, low—before he withdrew toward one end of the bridge. The shuffling of his steps sounded like drumbeats in the near-silence of the crypt as his adjusting eyes scanned the darkness for movement. A whir of air at his left prompted him to swing in its direction, but that was soon proven a mistake, as he found himself crying out at a pain in his right side. He pointed the sword in that direction one-handed while his other hand pressed against a weeping wound where the pain had erupted.

 _Scored right between the straps…where the armor's weakest._ He bared his teeth in a grim smile. _Smart._

Ketar took several deep breaths, closing his eyes to calm himself and enhance his hearing. Once again, he filled his lungs with air and felt his breast flare with power as he Spoke.

" _Laas-Yah-Nir_."

Slowly, so as not to arouse suspicion, Ketar turned counter-clockwise, his bloodstained hand joining the other on the hilt of his sword just as his vision filled with the red glow of his enemy's existence. A malevolent smile turned his lips as he saw the aura shift locations—right, then left, and lunge forward, in a stab, no doubt. Putting his weight on the balls of his feet, Ketar rapidly sidestepped to his right and twirled counterclockwise in a deadly pirouette that snuffed the aura from existence in barely more than an instant. A satisfied grin spread over his features as he felt an overwhelming sense of relief overtake him. A few gestures with his bloodstained left hand were enough to relight the braziers and reveal the dusty remains of Lokil's garb, as well as the remaining length of the bridge. Taking a deep breath, Ketar sheathed his sword and moved onward, right hand going to his side as his flesh rapidly knitted back together.

Upon reaching the far side of the bridge, Ketar stopped short and took a long look at the large circular space that greeted him. In the center was a small pedestal with a hollow button. Glimpsing no one else around with his eyes or the remainder of his Aura Whisper, the Breton pressed forward and looked the pedestal over. Seeing no other choice, he pressed his index against the stone button, frowning when it appeared stuck and using his entire hand to push it down, a fact he immediately regretted when a half-inch-wide spike pierced the appendage. He cried out in a sudden pain that vanished as soon as it came, his released blood running down into the edges of the pedestal and starting to glow with a violet hue.

Gingerly holding his injured hand, he looked around to see five arcs of violet magical energy flowing around the room. A quick glance revealed five unlit braziers, at which point Ketar's shoulders and indeed his entire face slumped with a deadpan look.

 _Really? Those idiot vampires couldn't figure_ this _out? The guy at the entrance was right. Lokil_ was _a fool._

A scant sixty seconds later, and the braziers were aligned with the magical arcs and lit with purple flames. Waiting for a few moments, Ketar began to wonder if there was more to the puzzle when suddenly, the floor quite literally dropped out from beneath him. Or, at least, that was what it felt like when the whole platform began lowering, turning the surrounding floor into a set of circular stairs that descended to a pentagonal stone monolith. On one side, there was a rectangular indent with a lever affixed to its center. Cautiously approaching, Ketar readied a lightning spell in his right hand while his left pulled the lever down. When the entire wall began to slide downward, he lunged backward, both hands channeling a powerful lightning bolt in readiness.

The spell faded moments later, his eyes widening when the eerie magical light of the braziers illuminated the form of a shorter, deathly pale Nord woman with the ornate garb of nobility and hair black as night.

With an Elder Scroll strapped to her back.

For a single fleeting moment, Ketar Dov believed he had discovered a _very_ well-preserved—and protected—corpse. But then her tilted head straightened, her pale, delicate lips parted and took in a breath, and with a drowsy flutter, he found himself staring into twin manifestations of the soft glowing light of Magnus at sunset.

* * *

AN: Hello all and WELCOME to my latest project. I know, I know—it's bad form to start something new when I have so much left to finish, but hey, when inspiration calls, you answer. I know I have, especially since my muse seems to have been taking a rather _annoyingly_ extended holiday, as evidenced by my months-long lack of output. I believe this is the first story I've written that isn't set in some form of the modern day or further into the future, at least technology-wise, but hey, it's the Elder Scrolls. If there's any medieval lore I know how to write, it's in this universe.

And on that note, VAMPIRES. Vampires were one of my favorite things about Skyrim, especially in the Dawnguard expansion, and as such, I will be going through the Dawnguard questline first. As you can probably already tell, quite a few major questlines have already been completed by the time this story starts, and more of past events will be revealed in later chapters so you guys know about where Ketar is in the overall plot. I'll do my best to be pretty faithful to the original story of the game, but of course, with a much more dialogue-oriented—and organic—setup. As evidenced by his struggle against Lokil, Ketar will _not_ be some Mary Sue who always wipes the floor with his opponents. He _can_ lose, quite easily if he isn't careful, and I always want there to be an element of danger with every situation he finds himself in.

Among the many stylistic changes I will be making is the "dusting" of vampires after death. It just makes sense, otherwise how could one harvest vampire dust from a corpse? From its blood? So, the body gets dusted, everything else is left behind. Makes sense, right?

More to come soon, I hope. In the meantime, I hope you've enjoyed the initial chapter of what is sure to be yet another exciting adventure in the annals of my collection. Please let me know what you think and if I'm doing a good job of representing the universe.

And as always,

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - Awake: getting dressed/sitting at the hearth


	2. Bloodlines

The momentary spell cast by the sight of the mysterious woman's eyes was broken as soon as they squeezed shut and she let out a small groan, one hand drifting up to the side of her head. Her uncovered eye opened and blinked a few times, looking over at Ketar curiously.

"W-Where is—" she looked around the room, "—who are—" Her expression sharpened as she let her hand drift back to her side. "Who sent you here?"

Ketar also blinked at her a few times before answering with a narrowed gaze. "Who were you expecting?"

The woman looked him up and down, focusing directly on his eyes despite the shadows cast by the black hood of his Guildmaster armor. "I was expecting someone…like me, at least."

"Like you…meaning a—"

"Vampire, yes."

Ketar stared at her for a few moments. "Right. Okay."

She arched an eyebrow. "What?"

He remained silent for a while, just looking around the chamber and frowning slightly. "By the look of this place, someone…went through a _lot_ of trouble to keep you hidden in there." He turned back to her. "Any ideas why?"

She sighed as half of her lower lip disappeared into her mouth, the edge of one upper fang just visible. "That's...complicated. And I'm not totally sure if I can trust you."

Ketar shrugged. "Fair enough, I suppose."

"But," she interrupted, "if you want to know the whole story, help me get back to my family's home."

His brows furrowed. "Where do you need to go?"

"My family used to live on an island to the west of Solitude. I would guess they still do." She looked around a little uncertainly, as if still trying to get her bearings. "By the way...my name is Serana. Good to meet you."

Ketar stared at her outstretched hand, no doubt deceptively delicate in both strength and decorum. Meeting her sunset-colored gaze, he placed his gloved hand in hers and squeezed just hard enough for her to feel it. "Ketar. Likewise." He released his grip on her a moment later and looked around at the darkened crypt. "Any idea how to get out of here?"

Serana shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. This place looks pretty different from when I was locked away."

The Dragonborn glanced at her again and was visually reminded of the object on her back. "Just making sure I didn't take too hard of a whack to the head—is that an Elder Scroll?"

Serana glanced back, a mild flash of annoyance vanishing from her features as quickly as it came. "Yes, it is, and it's mine."

"Strange thing to be carrying around. Makes a fellow curious as to why you have it."

She shot him a sideways glance as she took a few tentative steps outside her coffin-like resting place. "It's...complicated. I can't really talk about it. I'm sorry."

Ketar shrugged. "As you wish." His eyes narrowed, squinting at something in the distance, opposite the side he'd come in. "I think I can just make out a passageway up there."

Serana shrugged. "Worth a shot."

With Ketar taking up the rear, they proceeded up the stairs toward the passage in question, the Dragonborn watching his strange companion for any stumble to her steps. "How long were you in there?"

She frowned a little. "Good question. Hard to say." She thought for a few seconds. "I...I can't really tell. I feel like it was a long time. Who is Skyrim's High King?"

Ketar winced. "That's…actually a matter of debate at the moment."

Serana rolled her glowing eyes. "Oh, wonderful. A war of succession. Good to know the world didn't get boring while I was gone. Who are the contenders?"

"The Empire supports Elisif of Solitude, but there are many in Skyrim loyal to Ulfric Stormcloak, of Windhelm." He tried to keep his voice level throughout his recounting, but something slipped through that Serana picked up on.

"I'm unfamiliar with these names, but from your tone I take it there's no love lost with this Ulfric character?"

He snorted. "Long story."

Then she stopped short as something seemed to occur to her. "Wait…what…what empire?"

Ketar also stopped, a confused and mildly horrified look coming to his face. " _The_...Empire. From Cyrodiil."

"Cyrodiil…is the seat of an empire?" If Serana's features could have paled further, he got the feeling they would've. "I must have been gone longer than I thought. Definitely longer than we planned." Her head shook rapidly. "Please, let's hurry. I need to get home so I can figure out what's happened."

Ketar nodded once. "Right."

Serana's steps quickened faster than his did, and despite the discombobulated air she was giving off, she didn't stumble once. "This feels like the right way. I was starting to worry. Does the air feel...heavy down here?" She stopped and swayed a bit. "I'm a little woozy, but it might just be from waking up."

"Would feeding help? I mean, waking up from…however long you were asleep—you must be pretty ravenous."

She glanced over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow. "You offering?"

He gulped and chuckled haltingly. "Maybe another time."

Serana smiled a little and resumed moving.

"Wait," Ketar said suddenly, as they reached the far edge of the bridge to the passage.

Serana paused, though she gave an annoyed sigh.

He cut her off before she had the chance to speak. "If you were put to sleep before the Septim Empire was founded…then that means…" His eyes widened almost comically. "You're well over a thousand years old."

Serana stared at him for a moment or two, a flicker of her previous panic rising up before it faded to mild annoyance and no insignificant amount of mirth. She placed both hands on her hips and looked down at him from her place further up the stairs. "Don't you know it's impolite to discuss a woman's age?"

Ketar sputtered a few times at the teasing lilt to her tone, feeling heat creeping up his cheeks. For the first time, he was glad for the lack of light in this place. Then, with a start, he realized Serana was suppressing a chuckle and staring directly at his face.

 _Riiight…she could see my eyes in pitch dark._ His expression went deadpan. _Perfect_.

"Fine, laugh it up." He stepped past her with a stiff strut. "Mock the guy who set you free, why don't you?"

Serana finally let out her laugh as she sauntered beside him. "At least that person isn't boring, even if he _does_ lack a sense of humor."

Ketar turned to give her a mildly biting reply when he spotted something that sent a genuine chill down his spine. "Serana—"

Her expression immediately hardened when she saw him reach for his sword. "I feel it."

She took a slow breath, releasing it in a puff of disturbed dust as her hands flared with electricity and she whirled around to blast what appeared to be a moving statue with both appendages. The sudden shock and burst of energy stopped it in its tracks, and another moment or two of concentration later, and Serana sent a bolt of pure kinetic energy through its core, shattering it into pieces. The room fell silent for a moment or two as Serana dusted off her hands.

"Okay…you have _got_ to teach me how to do that."

The vampire turned to look over her shoulder at him, one corner of her lips turned upward wryly. "Maybe another time." Her eyes widened in alarm. "Ketar!"

He drew his sword in a split-second, falling into a ducking spin that cleaved a deep gash into the lower belly of another one of the stone creatures. He dashed backward when it swung for him with cruelly sharp claws, lunging forward to catch it in the face with a pommel strike mid-step. Grunting at the impact, it hissed and snarled at him as it stumbled back a step, then slashed at him again. A split-second was enough to summon a ward that just managed to repel its attack, and with a single back-step, a spin with both hands added enough force to a strike that severed its head. It crumbled to pieces moments later, revealing a large, uncut ruby within its remains.

"Okay," Ketar panted, "I've fought a _lot_ of monsters—and I do mean a lot—but I have _never_ run into one of those before."

"Gargoyles," Serana explained. "Magical creatures that hide in plain sight by hardening their skin when immobile. Very dangerous if they get the first hit in. Or any hits after that." She glanced his way after retrieving a similarly-sized sapphire from the remains of the other gargoyle. "They can regenerate using anything their claws rend."

Ketar arched an eyebrow as he tucked the ruby into a pouch at his belt. "Nasty."

"Mhm. We should move on quickly, in case there are more around."

"Right."

Sheathing his sword, Ketar moved toward a passage at the top of the stairs, Serana close behind him. Brandishing his crossbow, the Breton swept the room beyond for threats.

"So," he said suddenly, "why were you locked away?"

She replied hesitantly. "I'd...rather not get into that with you."

Ketar looked back at her.

"If that's all right. I'm sorry, it's not that..." she glanced around uncertainly, "it's just that I don't know who I can trust just yet. Let's get to my home, and I'll have a better sense of where we all stand."

He nodded and turned back to the room, proceeding forward and spotting a lever on his right. After pulling it and opening a sealed portcullis on his left, the familiar and irritating sound of coffins being burst open reached his ears.

"So," he said after letting off his first bolt, "tell me about your home."

"Now? Seriously?"

He shrugged as he loaded another projectile and quickly fired it into a charging Draugr Wight. "I'm multitasking."

He could _hear_ her eye-roll as she prepared another lightning bolt.

"It's on an island near Solitude." She grunted a little with effort. "Hopefully we can find a boat to take us there. It's my family home. Not the most welcoming place, but depending on who's around, I'll be safe there."

Ketar sidestepped a sword swipe from a Draugr he'd put two bolts in already and clubbed it with one of his crossbow's steel-reinforced arms. "Why wouldn't you be safe there?"

"Let's just say that my mother and father had a bit of a falling out. Don't worry, I'm not in any danger or anything like that." She cast another kinetic bolt at a Draugr, neatly popping its head from its shoulders and bouncing it off a far wall into a cracked urn. "It'll just be more…unpleasant to run into my father."

"Family drama? Wish _I_ had the experience."

Serana snorted. "Oh no. No you don't."

Ketar grunted as he yanked his sword from the rib cage of a particularly stubborn armored Draugr. "I was being sarcastic."

"…oh."

Using a nearby embalming cloth for a rag, he wiped off his Skyforged blade and sheathed it, taking a moment to reload his crossbow before preparing a healing spell. They both proceeded to the far side of the Draugr burial chamber, scanning every shadow for movement before reaching a large arena-like room.

"Well…this isn't ominous at all."

Serana shot Ketar a look, then snapped toward a coffin in the center of the room as it burst open.

"Oh, for Shor's sake—"

Ketar swore under his breath as he drew his crossbow and quickly sent his last three bolts into an awakening Dragon Priest's chest, none of them going near his heart despite the Dragonborn's impeccable aim.

"Bloody magic," he grumbled even as he slung the crossbow and prepared spells of his own.

More coffins burst open around the room, unleashing no less than six skeletons, whose glowing eyes were instantly registered as targets.

"Oh, enough of this!" Ketar took a deep breath and felt familiar power well within him. " _Yol_ - _Toor_ - _Shul_!"

As he dragged out the last word, a steady stream of flame erupted from his mouth, bathing the entire room in fire as he swept his head from side to side. Despite his best efforts, the Dragon Priest seemed only mildly scorched, but the skeletons were on the ground in pieces, reduced to little more than ash.

Ketar snarled and brandished his sword in one hand while drawing the Blade of Woe from the back of his belt with the other. "Have it your way, traitor."

Before he could lunge forward, a lightning bolt sent deadly electricity coursing through the Priest's undead body, followed by an ice spike that he deflected with his staff. Said staff then emitted a steady stream of electrical outbursts, the bolts striking the wall behind Ketar as he rolled away. Climbing to his feet, he coiled up for a run and breathed in deeply.

" _Wuld_!"

The Shout carried Ketar forward, both weapons outstretched in a lunge as he shot toward the Dragon Priest at the speed of sound, blades flashing in the light of the sconces he passed. Two satisfying _thunks_ sounded through the room as both weapons sunk deep into their target. But the fight was far from over. A strong blow to the shoulder smacked Ketar away and separated him from his sword, which was still stuck in the creature's chest.

 _Damn…missed its heart._

Despite the force of the staff blow, however, Ketar managed to hang onto his dagger, which he tossed from his left hand to his right with a twirling flourish, catching it in an underhanded grip. He rolled away from another lightning stream, just managing to catch sight of the staff's aftereffects: a persistent wall of electricity, quite the nasty enchantment. It geared up for another staff burst when two ice spikes buried themselves in its shoulders from behind, Serana circling around to bombard it with magic. The Priest twirled its staff in a surprising show of agility and used its flight to dodge her next salvo and counter with a lightning burst. She had a ward up before the spell left the staffhead.

Meanwhile, Ketar leapt toward it with a roar, bringing his dagger down on its back like a stake into soft dirt. The Blade of Woe pierced its spine, Ketar immediately feeling the massive bruise on his right shoulder stop throbbing as the critical damage fed the Blade's dark enchantment. Tearing it loose, Ketar slashed its staff hand off with a single gravity-assisted strike, catching the weapon mid-fall and clubbing the Priest over the side of his mask with it. A lightning blast was given to the fallen undead for good measure before Ketar tossed the staff aside and leapt off its coffin.

"Well, glad that's done." He nodded toward what appeared to be the exit. "Shall we?"

Serana looked him over curiously, then nodded and followed behind him. A few moments later, Ketar came to a stop as a voice whispered to him from one side. The vampire glanced back at him.

"Ketar?"

"There's…there's a word here."

"A what?"

He approached yet another Word Wall, scanning its surface for the familiar glow of fresh knowledge and feeling the exhilarating rush of the Thu'um's chant as it emblazoned the word and its meaning on his mind. A wide grin spread over his features as he closed his eyes and breathed it in, then opened them and turned to his companion.

"Now we can go."

She looked him over as if he were some strange specimen under examination. "What was _that_ all about?"

He shrugged. "Long story."

"I get the feeling there are a _lot_ of those with you. Surprising, given your years, or the lack thereof."

He arched an eyebrow at her as he tore the chains off an iron gate. "Excuse me?"

"I'm just saying. You're not an elf and certainly no vampire, so…you must be…what, mid-twenties? Early thirties?"

Ketar took a teasing tone. "Oh, so it's okay to talk about _my_ age, but your age is off-limits?"

Serana's eyes lit up. "So you _do_ have a sense of humor."

"Ha ha," he deadpanned.

"And for the record, _you're_ not a lady."

His dark blue eyes rolled. "Bloody double standards," he muttered under his breath.

"I heard that."

"I know."

All bickering and bantering utterly ceased as soon as they both stepped outside and were greeted by the sight of the night sky, moonlight obscured by thick blizzard clouds.

Serana let out a soft, almost musical sigh as she closed her eyes and took in the cold air. "It feels…so good to breathe again." She turned to Ketar with a smile. "Even in this weather, it's better than the cave."

He shrugged. "No arguments here. That place practically _reeked_ of death."

Serana began chuckling, then outright laughing as she twirled and half-danced through the snowfall, the flakes never even seeming to touch her, but fall all around her in a curtain of silken down. Ketar was…well…he was staring dumbstruck, to be honest, and if he hadn't spotted something entirely too close to the two of them, he might've stayed that way for a while yet.

"Serana—"

She sighed loudly. "Just let me enjoy this, will yo—"

"Serana!"

She immediately came to a stop, tense as a high wire as she no doubt felt the change in air currents. All mirth left her features as her head snapped toward the source of the disturbance, glowing eyes widening as her jaw dropped halfway to the floor.

" _Yol_ —"

" _Wuld-Nah-Kest_!"

"— _Toor-Shul_!"

Serana grunted with the sudden impact of almost two-hundred pounds of flesh, bone, and gear tackling her out of the path of a white-hot stream of flame. The pair landed behind the cover of a large boulder, no doubt hewn from the mountain by some cataclysm. She tried to get a peek around the boulder, but Ketar shoved her back with a strength she hadn't anticipated by the way she stared at him in shock. She realized why a moment later when a giant ball of fire exploded against the side of their cover, splintering pieces of rock off and scorching the snow-covered grass.

" _Naal uth_ Alduin, _hiin_ _laas los dii wah du_!"

Ketar snarled and peeked around the edge of the boulder only to pull back when their assailant sent another explosive ball of fire into the rock. " _Hahnu nau_ , _tahrodiis sunvaar_!"

The beast roared and took a tangible breath. " _Fus—_ "

Ketar's eyes widened in alarm, and his arms went around Serana's body as he Spoke rapidly. " _Wuld-Nah-Kest_!"

"— _Ro-Dah_!"

The pair streaked away from the boulder as it outright exploded, shattering into billion jagged fragments. More than a few of said fragments imbedded themselves in the back of Ketar's armor, the enchanted leather managing to hold up to the stones. When he recovered his breath, the Dragonborn whirled around to glare at the thirty-foot-long winged lizard currently stalking toward them with murder in his eyes.

A snarl came to Ketar's lips as he rose from the snow and clenched his fists at his sides. "What is your name, _Dovah_? I would know who I am about to slay."

The dragon bellowed a laugh. "Though you are less than dirt, _Zaam_ , I suppose I can oblige you that courtesy. I am called Vedsosvith. Remember the name, _Zaam_. It shall be the last you hear." Vedsosvith reared up and took a breath.

Ketar Spoke first. " _Joor-Zah-Frul_!"

The dragon immediately recoiled and roared in impotent rage as Ketar charged for it, drawing his Skyforge blade with a twirl. Once, twice, three times he brought his blade into the reeling dragon's neck, rending scales and drawing dark ichor from the wounds.

" _Zu'u nid geinl zaam_!" Ketar roared into its face as it began to recover and made a snap for his face.

He withdrew just beyond the reach of its fangs, thrusting his sword into the dragon's jaw as soon as he reached his maximum range. It roared and withdrew, wings pushing it back onto its hind legs as it rapidly twirled and snapped its tail at him. Seeing it coming, Ketar managed to get a Word out in time.

" _Feim_!"

The dragon's tail passed harmlessly through his now-intangible body, the enraged lizard roaring and chomping for him once again as he dove backward, rolling on contact with the ground. Ketar pulled the Blade of Woe from his belt with his left hand as he rose, intending to throw it and strike Vedsosvith in the eye, but the dragon Spoke before he could lift it halfway.

" _Fus_!"

The sudden explosion of force knocked him off his feet and into the trunk of a tree at his back, pushing off his hood and knocking the wind out of him. Vedsosvith stalked toward him slowly, savoring the moment as Ketar tried to cough his way to recovery. Suddenly, three four-foot spikes of hardened crystals struck the dragon in the neck, the same spot where the Dragonborn had been wailing earlier. Vedsosvith roared in agony as he thrashed about, eventually fixing his murderous gaze on a crouched shadow sitting behind a copse of half-shattered trees.

"S-Serana!" Ketar called desperately. "Run!"

"You cannot hide from _me_ , _Diil_!" shouted Vedsosvith a moment before he engulfed the trees and everything around them in blazing hot fire.

" _Serana_!"

A musical chuckling noise came from the complete opposite direction. "So _this_ is a 'legendary' dragon?" called Serana in a mocking voice.

Ketar's eyes widened as he looked between the charred tree-cluster and his vampire charge. "What—"

"Turns out we weren't this wyrm's first target." Serana nodded toward the now-ash corpse she'd reanimated. She put her hands on her hips and struck a reprimanding pose toward the dragon. "Now what did that poor hunter ever do to you?"

"You _dare_ to mock _me_?!" Vedsosvith roared, whirling on her and rearing up on his hind legs.

In the blink of an eye, Serana's face and stance immediately turned deadly, and as the moon at the dragon's back cast a shadow over her, she was suddenly right there, up in its face, perched on the top of its snout.

Ketar's eyes became saucers. _How—what?!_

Before he knew it, Vedsosvith was once again roaring in pain, as Serana had buried a concealed Elven dagger in his left eye up to the hilt. His head thrashed about madly, managing to shake her off and fling her into a tree. Its three-foot-thick trunk shattered on her impact, splitting straight down the middle as she flew through it and into a thick snow bank. Ketar had little time to consider her fate as the murderous dragon turned on him next, charging forward full speed—which is to say faster than all but the fabled black horses of Cheydinhal.

" _Fus—_ "

" _Fus_ —"

" _Ro-Dah_!" they finished in unison, their Voices clashing and mixing in the center in a spectacular clash of force and light.

A supersonic crack split the snow-streaked night air, causing Ketar to recoil. He looked up just in time to see Vedsosvith charging for him once more, this time rapidly flapping his wings in preparation to take off. Ketar looked around in a half-daze, managing to spot his fallen sword and diving for it just as the dragon's talons wrapped around his beaten body. His ringing ears just managed to pick up a distant shout of his name over the blizzard's howling winds as Vedsosvith carried him higher and higher. Focusing on the blade in his hand and not the ever-increasing throbbing of his head, Ketar wrapped both hands around its hilt and swung for his enemy's left talon hard, managing to score a hit, yet doing little more than pissing him off.

He swung again and again, his blows becoming weaker and slower as time passed and he began finding it harder and harder to breathe. Looking down, Ketar felt a true surge of panic engulf him as he saw the mountain Dimhollow Cave was hewn into—what felt like a thousand times smaller than it should've been. He gasped and heaved for every dreg of air, Vedsosvith's wings just beating away and taking them ever higher. His eyes began to drift closed as black spots swam in his vision, slowly but surely overtaking him. A feral growl of determination built in his chest when the dragon stopped ascending and raised his talons toward his gaping maw, neck stretching down to take Ketar's head off.

A beast-like roar worthy of a dragon came from Ketar's throat as he took his blade underhandedly and thrust it into Vedsosvith's mangled neck for all he was worth. " _Zu'u Dovahkiin_!" His gaze turned to the sky and with his last solid breaths, he uttered two more words. " _Strun-Bah_!"

Immediately, the night air was split with the sound of thunder, and a second later, Ketar was curled up as tightly as he could go, every part of his body as far from his sword as possible. Vedsosvith was the one who found himself out of breath a moment later when a gigantic bolt of lightning struck the Skyforge steel, sending a deadly shock throughout his entire body and liquefying his remaining eye—as well as his other internal organs. With one final roar of defiance, the once-proud lizard fell still, its massive armored body buffeted about by the Dovahkiin's wrathful storm and releasing its quarry at long last. Between the residual shocks and already lacking for air, Ketar was nearly unconscious by the time they began to descend.

As one, Dovah and Dovahkiin fell toward Nirn, a curious glow filling the turbulent night sky as Vedsosvith's body rapidly decomposed, the scales and flesh all peeling away to form waves of pure energy that flowed into the one he had called prey. The one who was fighting with everything he had to stay awake, to utter just one more word.

" _F-Fei—Feim—_ "

Ketar's eyes began rolling back into his head as the surface of Nirn drew ever closer, his Thu'um unable to project for his lack of power. This was it. He was spent, and not even conscious enough to face his death with both eyes open. The fluttering of a thousand tiny wings reached his ears seconds before a shadow fell over his fading vision. He managed to keep his eyes open just long enough to see a dark silhouette wrap sinuous arms around his falling form and spread leathery wings over him like a canopy.

A pair of sunsets were all he knew before the blackness took him.

…

 _He was certainly no doctor, but something told him there was never supposed to be_ this much _of his blood outside his body at any point in time. A gargled choke escaped his throat as he pressed his already-slick hand against the gaping wound in his lower chest and tried to summon any sort of strength._

 _"You may have picked up the weapons of my ancient foe, but you are_ not _their equal!"_

 _His vision focused just in time to see a pair of glowing red eyes set in a massive silhouette of pure midnight, growing ever larger and closer._

 _"_ Dovahkiin _,_ vosaraan _! Use Dragonrend before Alduin consumes you!"_

 _Bloody saliva bubbled from his lips as the friendlier voice reached his consciousness, his own Voice coming out weak and barely audible. "_ Joor-Zah— _"_

 _"Silence!_ Fus-Ro-Dah _!"_

 _His broken body flew across the rocky terrain, pummeled over and over into the stone wall he'd once sat before to receive instruction. The eye that wasn't swollen shut opened and focused to see the creature of midnight tangle with a similar creature, this one glinting silvery and bright in the moon's pale light. Black jaws encased the silver neck, throwing it against the Throat of the World as if tossing aside a ragdoll. And then midnight descended on him once more. Thunderous steps brought the darkness ever closer, the glowing red boring holes into his very soul and promising death._

 _"_ Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor _. My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals,_ Dovahkiin _. Die now and await your fate in Sovngarde!" The darkness reared its head. "_ Yol— _"_

 _A brighter, much smaller shadow dashed between him and the darkness, its arm raised and a round aegis there glowing like the sun._

 _"—_ Toor-Shul _!"_

 _All around him, fire and death spat and licked, scorching rock and stone and steel, but never touching him. When the flames passed and their smaller brethren clawed for life in the patches of tundra grass around him, the bright shadow rose to her feet, the silvery glint of winter given the form of blade grasped in her right hand. With a feral roar, the shadow charged toward the darkness, blade held high and flashing furiously in the moonlight._

 _"You WILL!"_

 _Slash._

" _NOT!"_

 _Bash._

" _TOUCH HIM!"_

 _A lunging, leaping strike that made even the darkness recoil._

 _His unoccupied hand pressed against the scorched soil, body too numb for pain and working just well enough to stand._

 _The bright shadow turned and dashed for his side. "Lord Dov!"_

 _His gaze traveled over her, to a bloody gash over her left eyebrow weeping into her matted hair, to a crushed section of armor and the leg she was avoiding putting weight on._

 _And like that, his teeth bared and visible eye flashed with inhuman fire. One foot went in front of the other as he stalked toward the darkness, his shadow ever by his side. His occupied hand returned to his side as his tortured lungs expanded and retracted, heaving hard for every enraged breath. Midnight drew itself up and breathed in._

 _He Spoke first. "_ Joor _!"_

 _The darkness recoiled, growling._

"Zah _!"_

 _It thrashed and raged against him, retreating a step further._

"Fruuuuuuuuuul _!"_

 _He roared out every scrap of rage and righteous fury he had left in a single, mighty Shout, bloodstained right hand reaching out and calling something to him without even knowing it. His legs moved of their own accord, faster than he even thought possible, and propelled him into a massive leap, both hands wrapped around the hilt of a razor-sharp blade. The darkness withdrew its head, placing its wings over its face like a shield, but his blade fell like the Eye of Magnus during the birth of the world, cleaving through its fore-wing's talon like a white-hot knife through butter. An agonized roar came from the darkness, its hateful red eyes burning at him in impotent rage as it desperately withdrew, diving from the Throat to take to the skies. It hovered just in front of the moon, not allowing him even that light._

"Meyz mul _,_ Dovahkiin _. You have become strong. But I am Alduin, firstborn of Akatosh!_ Mulaagi zok lot _! I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else! You cannot prevail against me. I will outlast you...mortal!"_

 _He stood and glared just long enough for the darkness to vanish into the horizon, then bonelessly collapsed into the loving arms of his shadow._

" _Milord! Lord Dov! Ketar!"_

 _His silvery friend descended at last, casting a warm glow over the both of them as his Voice bathed them both in soothing tones of supplication._ _"Akatosh,_ Lotbormah _,_ zu bolog _,_ aalhin kul siiv laas ko daar vulom _._ Ofan aaz wah hin Dovahkiin _."_

 _Two sets of massive, scaled wings spread over him mere moments before the darkness took him._

…

Ketar woke with a start, dark blue eyes flying wide open as he inhaled sharply, cold air entering his lungs in a rapid and haphazard pattern. His gaze darted around just as unpredictably, sore arms scrambling to push him upright and turn right as he took a good look at his surroundings. The rattle of carriage wheels reached his ears and registered a few moments later, as did the cloaked and hooded figure on his right. Ketar stared at her for a few moments, his gaze met by hers a second later, those sunset-colored eyes staring back at him intently. His sleep-addled mind flashed for a moment to another vision, where those eyes were set not in a pale, feminine backdrop, but a fanged, sickly pale creature with pointed ears, inhuman leather wings.

And a crown of nobility on its head.

He blinked a few times, finally registering a voice at the same time as the concern in those eyes. His head shook slightly. "Sorry, still a little—what?"

Serana sighed in relief. "So you're awake. And coherent."

Ketar blinked again. "I take it this is a big deal?"

She turned away, a black hood obscuring most of her features. "Considering the last four times you were muttering about 'the darkness' and waving around like a raving madman, I'd say so, yeah."

He sat up straighter, leaning against the side of the carriage. "I—" his lips pressed into a thin line, "—I fell."

Serana stared off to the side. "Yeah."

"The dragon?"

"Dead." She turned back to him, reaching for a long, folded rag on the seat next to her and handing it to him. "When I found it—and you—the sword was already a goner."

Gingerly unfolding the rag, Ketar frowned when he saw the scorched form of his once-beautiful Skyforge steel blade.

"Sorry."

Dov looked over at Serana and smiled a little. "Don't be," he said softly, re-wrapping his ruined sword. "I fell from heaven. Quite literally. If a broken sword is the worst of my injuries, I can live with that."

Serana smiled back, just slightly, the expression fading as soon as she caught sight of something off in the distance. "There it is."

Ketar blinked and turned to look where she was facing. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of a massive castle off in the distance, made almost entirely of charcoal-black stone. Or maybe that was just the lighting. Whatever the case, just the sight of it was enough to make him shiver more than the cold.

"Castle Volkihar. Home sweet home." Serana sounded less than enthusiastic.

"Sure you'll be all right in there?" he asked.

She frowned, but nodded. "Whatever else they are, they're my family."

Ketar groaned deeply as he strapped the sword-rag to his back and pulled his own hood over his features. "Then let's go." He thumped the front panel of the carriage twice. "Hey, chief. Thanks for the ride."

"Still another two leagues to—"

"This is as far as we need to go," Serana interrupted. "Thank you."

She placed ten coins Ketar didn't recognize into the man's palm, prompting him to stop the carriage and give them enough time to climb off. Serana walked off without another word, Ketar following close behind her. Silent minutes passed while they approached the bay between the mainland and Volkihar, spotting a boat conveniently docked on the water's edge.

"Well that doesn't seem fishy at all," Ketar deadpanned.

"It's not uncommon for them to leave boats docked along the shoreline. And with the vampires you killed in Dimhollow—"

"How did you—"

"Please," she interrupted derisively, "I can smell my own kind a mile away. Even if they're reduced to ash."

Ketar scoured her features as they prepared to shove off. "And you still went with me?"

Serana smiled wryly. "I figured if you didn't just cut me down on principle, the others must've given you a _reason_."

"They slaughtered an entire order of Stendarr devotees. Does that count?"

She arched an eyebrow and shrugged. "Good enough I suppose."

Wondering at her callous treatment of her own kind, Ketar felt less than at ease about getting in a boat with her than he had a minute ago, but if his foggy memories were even half-true…

He climbed into the boat without hesitation after pushing off with Serana's help, the boat slowly drifting across the water until they both began rowing in earnest. They made it across the bay in record time, touching down on the silt shore of Volkihar Island just in time for the sun to settle behind some quickly thickening cloud cover. Ketar took one good look at the sky before shaking his head and coming up short next to Serana.

"Oh…oh no. Really?"

Serana turned back to look at him with a teasing smile. "What? Don't tell me you're afraid of a few ugly statues."

Ketar's expression turned pure deadpan. "Very funny, Serana."

They strode across the bridge that joined the gate to the docks, one tense, the other silently laughing at him.

"So…why didn't you tell me it was so huge?"

Serana glanced over at him nervously. "I didn't want you to think I was one of those...you know, the women who just sit in their castle all day?" Her shoulders slumped at the bemused expression on his face. "I don't know. Coming from a place like this, well...it's not really me." She looked away briefly, then glanced over at him. "I hope you can believe that."

Ketar's left eyebrow hiked upward just slightly. "And…why should that matter?"

Serana just rolled her eyes and sighed. "Never mind." Some forty feet from the gate and a austere-looking gatekeeper, she stopped short. "Listen…um…before we go in there…"

He turned to her, noting the uncertainty and nervousness in her pale features. "Are you all right?"

Her eyes flashed with surprise for a moment before a smile spread across her lips. "I think so. And thanks for asking." She cleared her throat softly. "I wanted to thank you for getting me this far. But after we get in there, I'm going to go my own way for a while. I think... I know your friends would probably want to kill everything in there. I'm hoping you can show some more control than that."

"My…friends?"

Serana rolled her eyes. "I'm not an idiot, Ketar. You didn't just _stumble_ across my resting place. Whether you were looking for me or my coven, you were _looking_. And only a fool would subject himself to such danger alone."

Ketar's lips pursed. "Fair point."

Serana looked over at the castle gate. "Once we're inside, just keep quiet for a bit. Let me take the lead."

He nodded and followed her to the gatekeeper, whose hand drifted close to his weapon until Serana pulled back her hood. "Wait…is that—Lady Serana's back! Open the gate!"

Ketar gently tugged on Serana's sleeve, speaking softly enough that only she could hear. "Well at least _he's_ happy to see you."

A smile tugged at Serana's lips as they proceeded through the massive doors and into a massive, opulent hall whose odor immediately set Ketar's stomach turning. A single glance into the dining area below confirmed his suspicions as to why: littering the dining table were heads, limbs, and other gruesome parts of dismantled human beings.

"How dare you trespass here!"

Ketar's fingers twitched toward his Blade at the vampire's sudden outburst.

Then he caught sight of the Dragonborn's companion. "Wait...Serana? Is that truly you? I-I cannot believe my eyes!" He turned and ran for the stairs to go below. "My lord! Everyone! Serana has returned!"

No less than eight vampires seated around a U-shaped table turned in the speaker's direction, jubilant shouts of Serana's name carrying and echoing across the hall. One taller and more finely arrayed than the rest stood from his seat at the head of the table and approached the entering pair.

His voice boomed across the gap clear as day. "My long-lost daughter returns at last. I trust you have my Elder Scroll?"

Ketar sensed the tension in Serana immediately.

"Really?" she asked incredulously. "After all these years, that's the first thing you ask me?" She stopped and shook her head in resignation. "Yes, I have the scroll."

His face seemed to twist itself into a gruesome approximation of a smile. "Of _course_ I'm delighted to see you, my daughter. Must I really say the words aloud? Ah, if only your traitor mother were here."

Ketar felt Serana wince.

"I would let her watch this reunion before putting her head on a spike." He abruptly turned to Ketar. "Now tell me, who is this stranger you have brought into our hall?"

Serana turned to Ketar with a great deal more warmth than she showed her own father. "This is my savior, the one who freed me."

He smiled and approached the shorter Breton. "For my daughter's safe return, you have my gratitude. Tell me, what is your name?"

This… _creature's_ voice alone set Ketar's teeth on edge. "You first." He bowed slightly at the waist. "My lord."

Serana's father grinned just enough to show his sizeable fangs. "Very well. I am Harkon, lord of this court. By now, my daughter will have told you what we are."

"Vampires, of course."

Harkon snorted. "Not just vampires. We are among the oldest and most powerful vampires in Skyrim."

"Certainly a lofty claim." Ketar glanced over at Serana. "But based on what I've seen your daughter do in the last twenty-four hours, not at all outside the realm of possibility."

That brought another unsettling smile to Harkon's face. "To creatures as ancient as us, I'm afraid flattery will only get you so far."

Ketar smirked. "Can't blame me for trying." He was silent a moment, his unease increasing by the second. "So what happens now?"

"You have done me a great service, and now you must be rewarded. There is but one gift I can give that is equal in value to the Elder Scroll and my daughter. I offer you—my blood."

Dov's eyes went wide.

"Take it, and you will walk as a lion among sheep. Men will tremble at your approach, and you will never fear death again."

Ketar managed to spare a glance at Serana, whose expression looked painfully neutral, and therefore forced. He turned his eyes back to Harkon. "And if I refuse your gift?"

The vampire lord's gaze narrowed. "Then you will be prey, like all mortals. I will spare your life this once, but you will be banished from this hall." At Ketar's silence, he grinned and showed all his teeth. "Perhaps you still need convincing? Behold the power!"

Harkon outstretched his hands to either side of him, his clothing and flesh at once giving way to sickly pale skin, long, sinewy limbs, thin wings of frayed leather, a long flowing cloak the color of blood, and a deformed humanoid head. With pointed ears and a golden crown of nobility.

" _This_ is the power that I offer!" Harkon boomed in an otherworldly voice. "Now, make your choice!"

Ketar's dark blue eyes slowly drifted from the demonic-looking creature to his daughter, and as their eyes met, he finally understood what he'd seen the previous night—and why he felt nothing of what unsettled him about Harkon when he looked at her. Harkon's glowing eyes were similar enough to Serana's to indicate their shared vampire blood, but little else. While the daughter's intent gaze reminded him of a gentle mountaintop sunset, in the father's eyes raged a wildfire, contained for the moment but just begging to be unleashed. In Serana's eyes, there was hope in the form of a youthful, perhaps naïve perspective. In Harkon, he saw only death.

The longer he matched gazes with the vampire lord, the more visions began to assault him.

 _A pale, full moon overhead. Armor of scales and hide cleaved and torn apart with blades and claws and fangs. Flesh rent and devoured. And blood._

 _Blood._

 _So much…BLOOD._

Ketar Niel Dov blinked once more with a push-back of his black hood. He tightened his jaw and looked Lord Harkon directly in the eye. "I refuse."

Those two words echoed through the eerily silent hall for what felt like an eternity, the only sound Ketar's own blood pounding in his ears.

Harkon's inhuman features seemed to radiate both disappointment and predatory glee at once. "Then we have nothing further to discuss, mortal. You are prey now, like all the rest. I hereby banish you from my keep and warn you never to cross my path or that of my daughter again." His fangs bared as he drew close to the Dragonborn, their faces mere inches apart. "If you do, you may find that not even daylight can deliver you from my wrath."

As he withdrew, Harkon's left hand glowed with a dark radiance, the very light around it seeming to bend. Ketar only managed to get one last look at Serana before he found himself out in the bitter cold of night, but what he had seen was enough. In her eyes were quiet desperation and anxiety.

And the stirrings of a cunning plan.

* * *

AN: Hopefully the time period is starting to make a little more sense. I'm trying to ease you guys into this Dragonborn and his history thus far. Not much to say on this chapter, except to emphasize that the main quest of _Skyrim_ isn't done yet. Apart from that, I hope you enjoyed the second entry. I'm really trying not to jinx myself, but I think I might finally have broken my dry spell. Let me know what you think.

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

Dragon Age: Inquisition - Tooth and Scale: Ketar and Serana vs. Vedsosvith/fall to Nirn  
Arrow: Season 4 - Resurrected and Infected: start-1:48—Harkon's offer/end of chapter

Dragon language translations in order:

" _Naal uth_ Alduin, _hiin_ _laas los dii wah du_!" - By command of Alduin, your life is mine to devour!  
" _Hahnu nau_ , _tahrodiis sunvaar_!" - Dream on, treacherous beast!  
" _Zaam_ " – slave  
" _Zu'u nid geinl zaam_!" – I am no one's slave!  
" _Diil_ " – undead  
" _Zu'u Dovahkiin_!" – I am Dragonborn!  
 _"_ Akatosh _, Lotbormah, zu bolog, aal hin kul siiv laas ko daar vulom. Ofan aaz wah hin Dovahkiin."_ – Akatosh, Great Father, I beg of you, may your son find life in this darkness. Have mercy on your Dragonborn.

P.S.: Vedsosvith's name means "Black-scaled Serpent"

P.P.S.: When I talk about "longswords," I don't mean greatswords, I mean longswords. For reference, search for "Skyrim Lost LongSwords," and you'll get a good idea.


	3. A New Order

To say the trip back to Fort Dawnguard was a blur would be an understatement. To be precise, it was more like Ketar's vision had gone dark for a few moments, and then he was back in Dayspring Canyon, filling his flask in the same body of water once more. A minute later, when approaching the fortress gates, he froze at the sounds of clanging metal. His black horse whinnied loudly when he leapt from the saddle into a full-on sprint, drawing his scorched sword before he could think more on it. The first signs of battle greeted him as he dashed past a row of palisades, the red glow of a vampiric drain spell piercing the edge of his vision.

Snarling in rage, his left hand drew the Blade of Woe, its curved edge flashing with the rising sun as it carved through the neck of the first fiend within range. It began turning to dust as he lunged forward and drove a sprinting heel-kick into a female vampire currently tangling with an Orc Dawnguard. She was catapulted sideways into a wooden spike that lanced through her right shoulder, allowing the Orc to rush in and cleave her head off with an ornate-looking axe. Turning his attention toward the fort, Ketar spotted the Breton gatekeeper engaged in close combat with two vampires, one warded off with a similar axe, the other dodging a fired crossbow bolt.

" _Iiz-Slen-Nus_!" Ketar roared, sending a wave of pure cold into one of the vamps and freezing him solid.

Seeing this, the other Breton spun with his axe curling in a spiral, warding off the other vampire and driving its head into the frozen undead, who shattered on contact. Two thralls and their masters made a lunge for the last two hunters present, Isran and Agmaer, who was decked out in a set of new lamellar Dawnguard armor. Agmaer laid into one of the charging assailants with his crossbow while Isran brandished and raised a long-shafted warhammer of similar make to the other Dawnguards' axes. When the first of their opponents got in close, Isran slammed him in the knee, completely caving the joint in and sending it several dozen degrees in the wrong direction. A reversed spin brought the back of his hammer to trip the second assailant and expose him to a falling strike that crushed his skull.

The Blade of Woe whistled through the air as Ketar threw it into the second vampire, who was getting dangerously close to Agmaer. The dagger just missed its heart, a fact that enraged it as much as hurt it. Yanking the blade out of its back, the vampire charged toward Ketar with its fangs bared, an Elven sword in its hand and swinging madly. Ketar dodged the first two shots with relative ease, seeing as how the sun was just starting to peek over the mountain's edge and slow the vampires down. The third strike deflected off Ketar's left gauntlet when he pivoted hard to his right, using the movement to spin into a strike aimed at the vampire's knees.

The creature leapt over his strike and lunged back in with a leaping stab, which Ketar managed to parry with his scorched blade. He countered with a passing swipe at the fiend's midsection, narrowly missing his gut when it twirled around and pushed him toward the ground. He leaned into the movement, rolling on contact with the ground and spinning to face his enemy as it dashed past with a horizontal strike aimed at his head. He barely had time to bring his sword up in a block when the swing impacted his block. His head turned to the side hard when the scorched steel split down the center of its blade and sheared in half, the vampire's sword just missing the edge of his hood.

Ketar used the split-second it took to face his enemy to fall into a turning crouch and thrust his half-sword forward. A shock of golden metal whistled just over his head as his right arm extended fully with a satisfying _thunk_. Wet sputtering and the haphazard chattering of teeth followed a moment later as Ketar looked up to see what remained of his sword buried in the vampire's heart. A few heavy breaths of exertion left his throat before he yanked the blade free, its former sheath turning to dust in seconds as Ketar knelt by the other half of his broken sword. Frowning deeply, he picked up the blade piece and put it and the hilt back in its linen wrappings. When he rose to his feet, Isran was scowling at the dust-littered carnage around him.

"Look at this," he growled. "I should have known it was only a matter of time before they found us. It's the price we pay for openly recruiting. We'll have to step up our defenses." Isran turned to Ketar abruptly. "I don't suppose you have some good news for me."

The Dragonborn frowned. "I have news, but I wouldn't call it good."

Isran's eyes rolled as he sighed. "Of course. Why did I suppose differently? Fine, tell me what you know."

"The vampires were looking for a woman trapped in Dimhollow."

"A woman? Trapped in there?" He frowned deeper. "That doesn't make any sense. Who is she? More importantly, _where_ is she?"

"Her name was Serana…and she's a vampire. Quite a powerful one, I might add, and the daughter of a 'lord' of vampires. As for the where, well…" Ketar shrugged, "she wanted to go home. So I took her there, like any gentleman would."

Isran's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You did…what? A daughter of a vampire lord, returned to the source—what exactly did we get out of this deal? And why did you not cut her down as soon as you discovered what she was?"

Ketar's eyes narrowed right back. "First off, don't start jumping to conclusions. I can see the gears of paranoia and accusation turning in your head, and all it does is annoy me. Secondly, we got an idea of just what kind of enemy we're dealing with: a very ancient and powerful one. And third, I didn't just 'cut her down' because despite being asleep for what was almost certainly well over a millennium, Serana didn't just lunge for my throat and suck me dry. I'm not in the habit of carving up defenseless people who do me no harm."

Isran got up in his face. " _It_ is not a person, Dov. Something you'd do well to remember."

Ketar's teeth clenched for a moment before he sighed hard and turned toward his approaching horse, gently petting its neck. Then his voice turned flippant and he looked back toward Isran. "Oh, and they also have an Elder Scroll."

 _Then_ Isran went ballistic. "They _what_?! And you didn't stop them? You didn't secure the scroll?"

"Kind of hard to do with a dozen vampires, two of them quite ancient, staring at me with the remains of their last twenty victims strewn around me on dinner ware."

The old Redguard's eyes went wide, and he took a deep and calming breath. "I suppose you're lucky you're not dead. Or worse, one of them."

Ketar snorted and looked back to his horse. "Yeah, guess so."

Isran began pacing. "By the Divines, this couldn't get much worse. This is more than you and I can handle."

Dov kept silent.

"If they're bold enough to attack us here, then this may be bigger than I thought. I have good men here, but..." A distant look entered Isran's eyes as he grimaced a little. "There are people I've met and worked with over the years. We need their skill, their talents, if we're going to survive this. If you can find them, we might have a chance."

Ketar faced him fully. "Where do I start?"

Isran smirked. "Right to the point, aren't you? I like that. Not like those fools in the order." He thought for a moment. "We should keep it small. Too many people, and we'll draw unwanted attention to ourselves. I think we'll want Sorine Jurard. Breton girl, whip-smart and good with tinkering. Fascination with the Dwemer. Weapons in particular. Last I knew, she was out in the Reach, convinced she was about to find the biggest dwarven ruins yet."

He tipped his head upward. "Will she help us?"

Isran winced. "Might need a little convincing first, but she should. You'll also want to find Gunmar. Big brute of a Nord, hates vampires almost as much as _I_ do. Got into his head years back that his experience with animals would help. Trolls in particular, from what I hear. Last I knew he was out scouring Skyrim for more beasts to tame. Bring the two of them back here, and we can get started on coming up with a plan."

Ketar frowned a little. "Wait…trolls? He… _tames_ trolls?"

Isran grinned. "You have _no_ idea. Now get going. Sooner you find them, the sooner we can go on the offensive."

He nodded. "Mind if I pick the fort over before I go? Need to restock on bolts." He held up the linen with his broken sword. "And a new weapon."

"Of course," Isran replied. "Whatever you need."

"My thanks," Ketar intoned, striding toward the gates.

"And Dov," Isran called.

Ketar glanced back at him

"Watch your back."

…

Once the others were out of sight, Ketar reached into the pouch at the back of his belt and pulled out a round amulet of pure darkness, carved in the likeness of a bird whose wings were grasping a star. A few quiet mutterings and moments of concentration later, that star glowed a faint purple and shined a ghostly light over Ketar's features, a voice drifting through that only he could hear.

"It's been a while, lad. What's the occasion?"

Ketar smiled a little. "First things first, Brynjolf—how are things at the Flagon?"

"Business is booming, as usual, though Maven's been up our arses about some matter regarding bandits on one of her usual shipping routes. She suspects someone within her own organization is tipping them off."

A smirk came over the Guildmaster's features. "If she only knew."

"Aye, well, Karliah's helping to make damn sure that doesn't happen. Her and your rather unsettling Redguard friend."

"How is Nazir? We had the chance to speak a few days ago; he told me there was an impending bloodbath."

"That's the unsettling bit. When the caravan was attacked, only one of the guards was killed, but in such a gruesome way that the rest were sufficiently cowed into submission and silence. Now, if they haven't left Maven's company, their lips are sealed tighter than a miser's purse."

"As intended."

"I'm not saying anything went wrong…just that I'm not used to that sort of brutality."

Ketar smiled ruefully. "Which is precisely why I left you in charge in my absence. The Guild needs your temperate outlook to keep its hands clean of the likes of Mercer."

"…fair enough. So, you never answered my question. What's the occasion?"

Ketar took a breath. "I need a favor. Information, to be precise. I'm looking for a Nord named Gunmar, a renowned hunter. Last I heard, he was scouring the wilds of Skyrim looking for large animals, trolls specifically."

"I'll see what I can do. Now that the gold is flowing once more, our network is larger and stronger than ever. Shouldn't be more than a day or so before I have something for you."

"I appreciate it. And Brynjolf…"

"Yes?"

"…send word to Falion in Morthal. Inform him I may soon need his assistance once again."

"Oh…lad…is there something you need to—"

"It's—not what you think. I just…want to be safe."

"Understood. I'll see it done."

"Thank you."

…

After finding another forty or so steel bolts, Ketar fired a few practice shots on the indoor range. He caught sight of the Orc, Durak, swinging at a dummy with the curious axe he'd employed in the earlier fight.

"Durak!" he called.

The Dawnguard stopped abruptly and looked over at him with a grunt.

"I noticed your axe earlier. Never seen one like it before. May I?"

Durak held up the weapon and handed it over hilt-first.

Ketar hefted and gave it a few experimental swings, then frowned in concentration when he caught sight of its head. "Interesting design."

"It's deadly to vampires, burns them on contact."

Ketar's black eyebrows hiked upward as he looked over at Durak. "Really? How's that work?"

"From what I understand, the runes engraved in the head produce this effect. There are a few of these still lying around the fort, if you want one of your own."

Ketar's lips pursed as he shook his head. "I've never really been one for axes. Frankly, I'm more interested in the runes. Think the enchantment would transfer if they were carved into something else? Like a sword?"

Durak shrugged. "I suppose it's possible. You're certainly welcome to try if you have the aptitude. I've no love of magic myself. Steel and silver work just fine for me."

"And orichalcum, I assume."

The Orc smirked. "Of course." He looked Ketar over carefully as the Breton handed back his axe. "Have you visited any of the Orc strongholds scattered around Skyrim?"

"Visited many places in this province. Sadly, I don't think I've had the pleasure of entering one of those."

"Hmph, well, if you do come across one, tell them Durak sent you. They'll be more willing to listen."

Ketar smiled. "I'll remember that. Thanks for the information."

He simply nodded and returned to his practice as Ketar marched toward the exit.

…

Finding Sorine Jurard proved to be child's play. Indeed, exposed as she was to the open air, he was surprised some wild animal or bandit hadn't attacked her. Though, if Isran wanted her on his side, chances were neither would pose much threat to her. The speed at which she detected him from quite a distance off—while her back was turned—further reassured him of this fact.

"You haven't seen a sack of dwarven gyros lying around, have you?"

Ketar came to an abrupt stop, staring at her bemusedly.

Sorine shuffled a bit, looking around neurotically. "I'd swear I left it right here." Her head snapped to him abruptly. "Do you think mudcrabs might've taken it? I saw one the other day..." She began glancing about. "Wouldn't be surprised if it followed me here. Just—look around, will you?"

Biting his lower lip to keep from breaking into laughter, Ketar nodded slowly and began searching for one such satchel. Glancing back at the Breton woman, a thought occurred to him, and he took a breath before Speaking.

" _Laas-Yah-Nir_."

Within seconds, he spotted a cluster of small, glowing red auras a short distance off and moved toward them, summoning a fireball with his right hand. A cacophony of high-pitched shrieks came from the bank of a nearby river, the mudcrabs Sorine mentioned scattering like pigeons as Ketar chuckled his way toward a half-tattered burlap sack. He reached down and pulled the drawstring gingerly, wincing when the added pressure caused one of the gyros to fall out the largest hole. With a small stutter to his step, he retrieved the fallen Dwemer tech and made his way back toward Sorine.

"Careful," he said upon getting within sight of her, "the crabs really did a number on the bag."

She frowned and snorted as she gingerly retrieved her prize. "Vile vermin. It's a wonder they haven't been hunted to extinction."

Ketar gave her a sideways smirk.

Her head shook. "Anyway…was there a reason you ran into me, or just a passing traveler?" Her eyes narrowed. "With some rather…unique skills."

Ketar smiled and pulled his crossbow from a strap on his back. "Recognize this?"

Sorine's eyes widened. "Of course," she replied, reaching out to take it from him. "I _designed_ it."

He frowned sideways. "Isran neglected to mention that fact."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Isran? He—wait…what's going on?"

Ketar's expression sharpened. "He asked me to find you. Said we need your help."

Sorine stayed silent for a few moments before falling into bitter chuckles. "O-Okay, nice one."

He arched a confused eyebrow.

"Look, he made it _exceedingly_ clear the last time we spoke that he had no interest in my help. I find it hard to believe he changed his mind. He said some very hurtful things to me before I left." She frowned and started to turn away. "Anyway, I'm quite happy with my current pursuits. So if you'll excuse me..."

"Wait," he said, reaching out to grab her arm, which tightened in his grip. "Vampires threaten all of Skyrim. We need your help."

She snorted. "Vampires? Really?" She turned back to him. "Oh, and I suppose _now_ he remembers that I proposed no less than three different scenarios that involved vampires overrunning the population." Her arms crossed. "Well, what are they up to?"

Ketar's confused expression went deadpan. "No idea. But they have an Elder Scroll."

Her eyes went wide. "Well…okay, um." She scratched the back of her head. "I have to admit, I didn't see that one coming. Not sure what they would even _want_ with one, but in this case Isran is probably correct in thinking it isn't good."

"So you'll help?"

"If only to know to keep myself safe, sure." She held up the bag of gyros. "And since you did me a solid, I figure I can at least give _you_ the benefit of the doubt…" her arms crossed as her voice fell to a grumble, "even if Isran doesn't deserve it."

He smiled. "I've worked with the man for less than a week, and I can _already_ see why he's so difficult to get along with."

That earned a sympathetic smile from her.

"He'll want you to go to Fort Dawnguard. It's—"

"Near Riften, I know. He's been working on the old hideout for years. Wonder how far he's gotten."

Ketar winced. "Not far, I'm afraid. He'll certainly benefit from your experience."

Her head shook slowly as she began packing up her things.

"I'm Ketar, by the way."

"Sorine—though I guess you already knew that."

He nodded with a smirk, feeling something pulse in his rear pouch and giving her one last smile. "I'll see you there then."

"Mhm."

The smile dropped from his face as soon as she was out of sight, Ketar reaching into the pouch and retrieving the glowing amulet. "Brynjolf—what do you have?"

"Ivarstead. Apparently he's been hunting a beast in that area for some time, a rabid creature that's been attacking civilians indiscriminately."

Ketar frowned. "From how Isran described him, that sounds like his typical fare."

"How do you mean?"

"Putting down rabid beasts."

Brynjolf's voice sounded unsettled. "Yeah…about that—"

"Look, it's okay. I just need a failsafe on standby so I don't have to wait. At this point, knowing it can be cured at any time, it'll be more of an annoyance than anything."

"…okay. So long as you're sure. But if you need help…"

Ketar smiled. "I know, Bryn. You just keep doing your job. That'll help me in ways you can't even fathom."

"Understood. Good luck."

"Long as I stay true to our Lady, I don't think that'll be a problem."

"Ha. True enough. Don't hesitate to call if you need more information."

"You got it."

…

To say that Ketar's love of the outdoors was tempered by his hatred for most of the local wildlife would not have been an understatement in the slightest. Which was precisely what he recalled when he first heard the roar of a _gigantic_ bear charging straight at him and his horse.

"Stormbreaker, left!"

The horse growled and dodged the bear's first lunge with ease, galloping around its back as Ketar loaded his crossbow, firing over his shoulder to tag the bear in the shoulder. It roared and turned about to make another pass at him, just managing to keep pace with his horse. Mid-gallop, Ketar yanked the reins hard left, left hand reaching back to grab the Blade of Woe and hurl it into the bear's neck. While it reeled in pain, he reloaded his crossbow and leapt from the saddle in a jump-shot that hit one of its forelegs, effectively crippling it while he moved in for the kill. Both hands curled around each other, electricity sparking between them for a few moments before they lunged forward and struck the bear directly in the head.

Using the steel bolthead and Blade of Woe as conduits, the combined shock effectively fried it from the inside out, killing it instantly. It dropped to the ground a moment later, and approaching footsteps were heard from the brush as Ketar busied himself with retrieving his spent weapons only to give up on the bolts, which were buried too deep in the beast. When he finally slid the Blade back into its sheath, he heard a deep Nord voice from behind.

"For two weeks I've tracked that bear, and now find that you've killed it on your own."

Ketar turned to spot a large red-haired Nord looking his kill over with an approving smile.

He chuckled. "I'm not sure whether that makes you brave or foolish." He leaned down to press his hands against the beast's injuries. "What brings you here?"

"Gunmar I take it? Your old friend Isran needs your help."

Gunmar's red eyebrows hiked skyward. "Isran? Needing someone's help?" He laughed outright. "Never thought I'd hear that. I'm afraid he's a few years too late. I've moved on, have more important business to attend to. Besides, he can handle _anything_ alone! He assured me so himself." He jabbed a thumb into his chest. "What could he possibly need _my_ help with?"

Ketar sighed and facepalmed, already seeing a trend with Isran's "old friends." "Oh, you know, Elder Scroll, ancient vampires, that sort of thing."

 _That_ got his attention. "Vampires?" He frowned. "That...well, that might change things." He looked up at Ketar. "And you said something about an Elder Scroll?"

Ketar nodded gravely. "They have it."

His eyes went wide. "By the Eight…all right. I'll hear out Isran, see if there's anything I can do to help. Where do you expect me to go?"

"Fort Dawnguard. I assume you know the way?"

Gunmar nodded and stood. "He's been working on that place for _years_ now. Never lets _anyone_ in. His own little fortress. Well, I guess I'll get to see what he's been up to all this time." He nodded to Ketar. "I'll meet you there."

"You got it."

Watching Gunmar leave, Ketar turned back to the bear for a moment before mounting his horse. His rear pouch vibrated, and he reached back to grab the amulet once more. "Brynjolf, what is it?"

"Nothing to worry about—I hope. I just thought you should know that one of my people in Whiterun heard some High Elf types asking around about you."

Ketar's eyes widened in minor alarm. "Thalmor?"

"Aye, that's my thinking. Like I said, hopefully it's nothing to worry about, but just in case—"

"You did well to contact me. Thanks, Brynjolf."

"Of course, lad. You stay safe out there."

"You too." Ketar frowned deeply when the amulet stopped glowing, a glower coming to his features as he fixed the ground next to Stormbreaker with a deadly stare. "Let's get going. Don't want to keep Isran waiting."

…

Something about Fort Dawnguard was different when Ketar stepped back through its gates, specifically the fact that the three portcullises that had been open every time he'd been there were now up. Well, that and Isran was standing watch over the three newcomers on the central balcony above.

"All right Isran," said Gunmar with a glance at Sorine, "you've got us all here. Now what do you want?"

"Hold it right there," he replied.

Immediately, the aperture at the top of the room opened wider, sending a massive beam of sunlight into the center of the room and bathing the three of them with it.

"Ugh," Sorine grunted, squinting with a hand blocking her face from the bright light, "what are you doing?"

A few moments passed before the light dampened somewhat, and Isran breathed a sigh of relief. "Making sure you're not vampires. Can't be too careful."

Ketar's eyes rolled beneath his hood. _Paranoid._

"So," Isran continued, "welcome to Fort Dawnguard. I'm sure you've heard a bit of what we're up against. Powerful vampires, unlike anything we've seen before. And they have an Elder Scroll. If anyone is going to stand in their way, it's going to be us."

"This is all well and good," Sorine interrupted, "but do we actually know anything about what they're doing? What do we do now?"

"We'll get to that," Isran answered with a nod. "For now, get acquainted with the space. Sorine, you'll find room to start your tinkering on that crossbow design you've been working on. Gunmar, there's an area large enough for you to pen up some trolls. Get them armored up and ready to use." Suddenly, Isran's eyes went hard and he turned to Ketar. "In the meantime, we're going to get to the bottom of why a vampire showed up here looking for _you_."

Ketar's eyes widened. _Wait…what?_

"Let's go have a little chat with it, shall we?"

Ketar beelined for the nearest spiral staircase when Isran motioned him upward, practically sprinting up the stairs until he reached an uncomfortably dangerous-looking interrogation room, complete with plentiful sharp objects and a torture rack. But none of those things, or Isran, were given more than a passing glance when his eyes alit on the red cloak hanging below a head of raven hair. That head turned to face him as his footsteps echoed through the chamber, and for the briefest of moments, all he could see was the sunset. A few seconds passed before his senses were working again, and he heard Isran's gravelly voice from the side.

"This vampire showed up while you were away." His arms crossed as he glared at her. "I'm guessing it's the one you found in Dimhollow Crypt. Says it's got something really important to say to you. So let's hear it."

Serana sent Isran a brief but withering return glare, her features softening as she turned back to Ketar. "So…you probably weren't expecting to see me again."

A small smirk twitched at his lips. "Not that I'm complaining—" he cleared his throat when Isran turned his glare on him, "—but what are you doing here?"

She frowned and sighed. "I'd rather not be here either, but I needed to talk to you. It's important, so please just listen before your—" she motioned at Isran, "—friend, here, loses his patience. It's...well, it's about me. And the Elder Scroll that was buried with me."

 _That_ got both their attention, and Ketar said as much with a smirk. "Well, you _did_ promise me the whole story."

Serana managed a small smile. "The…the reason I had it, why I was down there…it all comes back to my father." She shrugged. "You…probably already figured this out, but my father's not exactly a good person. Even by vampire standards."

Isran snorted at that.

"He wasn't _always_ like that, though. There was...a turn. He stumbled onto this obscure prophecy and just kind of lost himself in it."

Ketar arched an eyebrow. "Prophecy?"

She nodded. "It's pointless and vague, like all prophecies. The part he latched onto said that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun."

His eyes rolled. "Oh, I can see where _this_ is going."

Serana gave him a look of commiseration. "For someone who fancies himself as vampire royalty, that's…pretty seductive. He wants to control the sun, have vampires control the world." She paused for a moment to glance at Isran's steadily angering features. "Anyway, my mother and I didn't feel like inviting a war with all of Tamriel, so we tried to stop him. _That's_ why I was sealed away with the Scroll."

"And now that you're back," Ketar interrupted, "he wants to try again."

"And I need your help to stop him."

Ketar glanced at Isran, who was nothing short of skeptical, then turned back to Serana. "You took a big risk coming here."

Serana's lips pursed. "I did." She frowned a little. "But…something about you makes me think I can trust you. I hope I'm not wrong."

Ketar sighed. "No, you're right. We just have to convince the _others_ —" he sent a pointedly irritated look at Isran, "—that you're on our side."

"Then let's get started," she replied, smirking. "I'm nothing if not persuasive."

He barely suppressed a chuckle. "Somehow I don't doubt that."

"All right, enough." Isran stepped forward, a permanent-looking scowl on his face. "You've heard what it has to say. Now tell me, is there any reason I shouldn't kill this bloodsucking fiend right now?"

Ketar suppressed another eye-roll. "Because we're going to need her help."

"Why? Because of that story about the prophecy? About some vampire trying to put the sun out? Do you actually believe any of that?"

He turned his head down in a series of bitter chuckles. "Isran, if you knew the _half_ of what I'd seen, you wouldn't be nearly so skeptical. Besides, why else would she risk her life to come here? Makes no sense."

"To get us chasing a wild horker? Maybe it has a death wish. _Maybe_ it's just insane." Isran scowled harder. "I don't really care."

"Well, I do, and if she's telling the truth, we could _all_ be in some very, _very_ big trouble."

Isran's hard gaze turned to Serana.

"Listen to me. In the last two years, I've fought Thalmor, Daedra, assassins, _dragons_ —and I am still here. Not by being the greatest warrior or mage, but by anticipating my enemies and seeing the truth through their screen of lies. I believe that _she_ is telling the truth, and if I'm right, then we are _going_ to need her help."

Isran glared at her for a few more moments before turning to Ketar. "You'd better know what you're doing."

Ketar almost smiled.

Isran's voice rose. "It can stay for now, but if it so much as lays a _finger_ on anyone here, I'll hold you personally responsible. Got it?"

The Dragonborn bowed his head slightly in agreement.

"You hear me?" he asked Serana. "Don't feel like a guest, because you're not. You're a resource. You're an asset. In the meantime, don't make me regret my sudden outburst of tolerance and generosity, because if you do, your _friend_ here is going to pay for it."

Serana didn't bother to restrain her eye-roll, or the _heavy_ sarcasm that followed. "Thank you for your kindness. I'll remember it the next time I'm feeling hungry." Immediately ignoring Isran, she turned back to Ketar. "So, in case you didn't notice the giant _thing_ I have on my back, I have the Elder Scroll with me. Whatever it says, it will have something that can help us. But of course, neither of us can read it."

Ketar's eyebrows furrowed. "You're talking about a Moth Priest."

"A what?" Isran asked.

Ketar cleared his throat. "I studied at a…shall we say, _very_ well-rounded institution growing up. They told me that the Moth Priests were the only ones capable of reading Elder Scrolls."

"Not that it helps us _anyway_ ," Serana interrupted, "because they're half a continent away in Cyrodiil."

Isran frowned in thought. "Some Imperial scholar arrived in Skyrim a few days ago. I was staking out the road when I saw him pass by. Maybe _that's_ your Moth Priest."

Serana perked up. "Do you know where he's staying now?"

"No, and I'm not going to waste men looking. We're fighting a war against your kind, and I intend to win it. You want to find him, try talking to anyone who'd meet a traveler. Innkeepers and carriage drivers in the big cities maybe. But you're on your own." Isran turned toward the door, sending Ketar one last look before leaving the room.

The Dragonborn watched him leave, then stared at the doorframe for a while before turning back to Serana. "Well…that actually went a lot better than I expected."

Serana arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

Ketar jerked a thumb at the door. "He doesn't really get out much. I get the feeling he's sort of…antisocial."

A laugh started bubbling from his throat, and Serana couldn't help but join in. He sighed hard once they had calmed somewhat.

"So," Serana said finally, "where would _you_ start looking for a Moth Priest? Skyrim's a pretty big place."

Ketar smiled. "Don't worry. I have people who can ask around for me. Once I have them on the case, it should only be a day or two at the max."

Her eyes widened. "You're…very well-connected for someone your age."

He almost rolled his eyes and made another crack about the "age" thing, but instead chuckled and replied, "You have _no_ idea." He stepped away for a minute or two, then reentered as he tucked the amulet back into his rear pouch. "All right, message sent."

"Already?"

He smirked. "I have my ways, Serana. In the meantime, we should probably discuss how this is gonna work. You know, you, a vampire, working with vampire hunters."

She frowned. "Well…to be honest…I don't really think it's the best thing that I'm here right now. I only really came here to find you, so…"

He arched an eyebrow. "You want to come with me."

Serana shrugged. "If that's all right. I've just…things have changed _so_ much in my absence, and I've _really_ been wanting to get out and explore a bit."

Ketar smiled and tilted his head briefly. "Sounds like a plan. I have an idea of where we should go first… _if_ we're gonna be working together long-term. There's…someone you should probably meet."

Serana smiled and waved toward the door. "Lead the way."

A brief shock of sudden and unexpected glee went through his gut as he turned for the exit and vaulted over the side of the balcony. He rolled on contact with the ground, breaking his fall, whereas Serana just leapt from the top and landed with barely a stutter to her step.

On their way out the door, Ketar turned his head to speak to her. "You were wrong earlier, by the way."

She fixed him with a confused look.

Ketar smirked. "I couldn't be sure…but before Harkon teleported me out of Volkihar, I saw this…look in your eyes." He broke out into a full smile as he pushed the doors of the fortress open. "I _was_ expecting to see you again."

Serana blinked at him owlishly for a few moments, then gave him a skeptical smile. "Uh huh."

"I _was_."

"Sure you were."

"Serana—"

"Fine, fine. If you say so."

Sigh. "This is gonna be a long trip."

* * *

AN: That closes up chapter 3, getting into our first interlude in the Dawnguard storyline and the first part of the "Prophet" quest. This one was a little slow, I'll admit. Had to send the plot along somewhat, but I hope you're still enjoying this. I have a lot of work to get done over the next couple of days, so I might not update for a while, but rest assured, I have a lot more in store for this story.

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings - The Wild Hunt: Reaching Fort Dawnguard/vampire battle  
Dracula Untold - Three Days: Serana and Ketar make plans to find the Moth Priest/end of chapter


	4. Prophet

"So, I have a confession to make."

Serana looked over at him from where she was walking beside him, her hood obscuring much of her features. "Oh?"

"You know how…we're always making cracks about each other's ages? Well…we're _really_ far apart in that regard, no matter how you look at it."

"Well…yeah, that's a given. I'm a vampire. An _ancient_ vampire."

"Yet you don't look a day over twenty-five."

"Aww, thanks."

Ketar rolled his eyes. "Thing is, I've always looked kind of mature for my age."

"So?"

"So…when I say that I'm a lot younger than you, what I really mean is…I'm actually closer to adolescence than adulthood."

 _That_ got her attention. "…really? You?"

He smirked. "I know! Someone this serious, this _awesome_?" He grinned over at her. "Hard to believe, right?"

Her eyes rolled. "I _did_ say mid-twenties, remember?"

"And you were wrong."

Serana's gaze snapped over to him.

He chuckled softly. "I'm actually twenty-flat."

The silence that came over their party was absolutely deafening…until Serana got over her shock.

" _WHAT_?!"

…

An hour and several miles toward Whiterun later, and Serana still hadn't quite gotten over his revelation. To hedge against any further outbursts, Ketar tried to change the subject.

"So…your father."

Serana tensed.

"You said he wasn't always like he is now. Care to explain that?"

She frowned deeply and let out a small sigh. "Look…far as I'm concerned, that man no longer exists. Reminiscing over something that no longer is…well, it's not really how I want to spend my time."

"I understand. I'm sorry. I just…he couldn't have been _all_ bad." Ketar nudged her arm with a smirk. "I mean, he raised _you_ after all."

Serana frowned. "If only it were that simple."

He glanced over at her, grimacing. "Yeah…sorry. Too personal, I guess."

"Though I certainly understand your curiosity. It's just…complicated. You know how family is."

He snorted. "Actually, not really."

She looked at him. "You…mentioned a while back that there wasn't any family drama in your life. I…guess I sort of assumed that was because you were on good terms with them, but—"

"I never knew them."

Serana fell silent.

He shrugged. "At this point, it's really no big deal to me. Just because I didn't have my parents doesn't mean I was alone growing up."

"Where _did_ you grow up? Earlier, you told Isran that you were educated very thoroughly. Are you nobility?"

He chuckled. "Not quite. Dragonborn."

"Meaning?"

"You remember when I faced down that dragon in the forest?"

"It _would_ be kind of hard to forget."

He smiled. "Right. Well, when we Spoke to each other, and at each other…that was the dragon tongue. I'm able to learn and use its power innately due to the fact that I actually have dragon blood running through my veins."

Her eyebrows hiked upward. "O…kay? How does _that_ work?"

Ketar chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. " _That_ is a very long, very convoluted explanation including Tiber Septim, Akatosh, and a prophecy about the end of the world." He smiled over at her. "I'll spare you the details."

She stared at him for a few moments. "Right."

"To answer your previous question, I sort of grew up in a…monastery of sorts, up in the Jerall Mountains of Cyrodiil. The monks there raised me from birth, taught me everything I know. And I do mean everything."

"So…your fighting style, your handling of weapons—"

"And magic, yes. A great part of what I'm able to do today is thanks to what they taught me. They even educated me on some of the dragon tongue, though I had no idea about my dragon blood until I came here." He frowned a little. "In retrospect, I think _they_ did."

"So why'd you leave home? Wanted to see the world?"

His head shook. "Forced to. This particular chapter of monks was pretty much dedicated to the service and worship of Talos, and if you've heard anything in your time here, it's that _that_ is now specifically banned in the Empire. Two years ago, the monastery's pursuits were discovered and the Thalmor, a nasty little band of Altmer witch-hunters, tried to burn it down. They failed, of course—I mean, come on, they trained _me_ —but the monks realized that they could no longer hide themselves, or me, there, and since I was of age to strike out on my own, I did just that." He smirked and chuckled bitterly. "Two weeks later, I was arrested crossing the border of Skyrim, shipped to Helgen, and sentenced to execution because they thought I was working with the Stormcloaks. About two seconds from getting my head removed, a dragon showed up out of nowhere and started roasting my captors. The rest, as they say, is history."

Serana stared at him for a few moments before shaking her head. "You are a very strange man, Ketar Niel Dov."

He looked over at her confusedly. "I never told you my full name."

"Never had to. I rented a carriage to get to Fort Dawnguard, and along the way I asked the driver if he knew anyone named Ketar. He spat out _your_ name almost immediately and began ranting and raving about how many bandits and dragons you'd slain."

Ketar winced. "Exaggeration is the price of fame, I'm afraid."

"From what little I've seen you do, I doubt it's much exaggeration."

He sighed and looked away with a frown, voice nearly a whisper. "You'd be surprised."

…

"Welcome to Whiterun!"

Serana stared up at the massive gates of Skyrim's central city with an appraising look. "That's…different from the last time I was here."

"A lot of things are, I'm afraid." Ketar pulled back his hood. "But hey, at least you're not alone."

Serana sent him a brief smile as they entered the gates, following him past a smithy, the attending woman glancing up to give him a radiant smile. The guards all bowed their heads slightly in deference as he passed by, Ketar seeming immune to their attention, or at least ignoring it as he made a beeline for a house some ways down the main street. Gently pushing the door open, he stiffened briefly as he came to an abrupt stop, Serana wondering at his hesitation until she glanced over his shoulder to see a tall, heavily armored Nord woman holding a bow and arrow on him. She was about to summon an ice spike when the woman lowered the bow and breathed out in relief.

"It's you," she said, laying the bow on a nearby rack, then approaching Ketar.

He grasped her by the forearm as she did the same to him, her other arm going around his back as she briefly embraced him, concern written over her features. Serana stared at the exchange with curiosity, content to just watch them for now.

"Why the high alert?" Ketar asked. "Wait, don't tell me—Thalmor."

She nodded with a frown. "Thalmor. They've been staying at the inn for the last three days looking for you."

He sighed hard. "What for this time? I mean, it's not like they really need a _reason_ , but still."

"I don't know. Don't care. If any of them come near you, they're dead."

Ketar smiled. "I'd expect nothing less." He stopped abruptly, then turned back to a curious Serana. "Ach, sorry, where are my manners? Lydia, Serana." He waved to the armored Nord. "Serana, this is my housecarl, Lydia."

"A pleasure," Serana said as she approached the taller woman and grasped her armored forearm the same way Ketar had.

Lydia looked her over with appraising eyes and no small amount of suspicion. "Is she—"

"Our guest, yes," Ketar interrupted. "And my traveling companion for the moment. Having a little…family trouble," he shrugged, "and she asked for my help."

Lydia gave him this _look_ that was almost…reprimanding.

Ketar looked back at her confusedly. "What?"

She sighed and shook her head. "I'll get refreshments."

Serana watched her disappear upstairs, then turned to the seated and frazzled-looking Ketar. "She seems…nice."

"Lydia is just…protective. It's sort of her job to be, and she's good at it." He motioned to a seat near the central fire pit. "Please, sit."

"Thanks." Serana chewed her lower lip and took the proffered seat. "Seems like more than just a job to her."

Ketar smirked. "She's _very_ good at it."

Her eyes rolled. "Whatever you say." A pause. "So, I couldn't help but notice all the attention you got as you entered Whiterun. Care to explain?"

"Ugh," he groaned, running a hand over his face, "okay, so…two years ago, I sort of…saved the city. It was before I knew I was Dragonborn, and apart from surviving, I had _no_ idea what I was doing. I just understood that if I was going to survive in Skyrim, I would need allies, and since a dragon was intent on destroying Whiterun, it seemed like an opportunity to make a good impression."

Serana arched an eyebrow. "So…what, you just decided to go hunt down a dragon?"

He shrugged. "Pretty much. Though technically _it_ came to _us_. When I killed it…well, you saw what happened when I struck down Vedsosvith. Seconds later, I heard this…voice in my head, uttering this word over and over and over again. So, finally, when I couldn't take any more, I…" He motioned his hands over his diaphragm. "I just…Spoke. Shouted, actually, and the force of it shattered the neck of what was left of the dragon. One thing led to the next, and…well, I was made Thane of Whiterun."

Another eyebrow joined her other one. "That's…not easy to achieve."

He chuckled. "I know. Guess I just got lucky."

Serana laughed. "I don't think anyone else would call running into a dragon lucky."

Ketar snickered as Lydia came down the stairs with a tray of tankards and sliced bread. He grabbed one of the mugs off her tray as it came past. "Thank you, Lydia."

"Thank you," Serana said as she did the same.

The housecarl nodded and kept an eye on her as she laid the tray down on a small table between them and retreated to a larger table at the far corner of the room, flipping open a nearby book and reading.

Serana stared at her for a while longer before Ketar got her attention.

"So, welcome to Breezehome. What do you think?"

She looked around the space, warm and filled with the smells of herbs and food. "It's…certainly no castle." She smiled. "It's better. Warmer. More homey."

Ketar grinned. "This was the first place I stayed here in Skyrim. Wasn't difficult to buy the property when I dumped a bag of dragon bones from my first kill on the counter of the local general store. Belethor, the Breton who owns the place—" he laughed, "—I thought his eyes were gonna pop straight out of his skull."

Serana chuckled along with him.

"He practically begged me to take his entire treasury in exchange for the bones. And that wasn't even including the scales."

She chewed her lower lip a little. "Pity I didn't stop to harvest a few of those from Vedsosvith's corpse."

"Hm." Ketar smiled ruefully. "Well, you had other things on your mind." His smiled widened. "And I am very glad you did."

Serana smiled back and sipped her mug, almost choking when the sheer strength of it hit her.

"You okay over there?" Ketar laughed.

"Just—" cough, "—it's been a few centuries since I've had anything this strong."

He hefted his own tankard with a grin. "Black-Briar mead. Not a huge fan of the owner, but damn can she make some good product." A long swig was taken before he sampled some bread from the tray. "What about you? Any favorite drinks?"

Serana gave him a flat look.

He blinked back at her confusedly. "What?"

She turned to Lydia, projecting her voice across the room. "For someone so smart, he can be kind of oblivious, can't he?"

Lydia, not expecting the communication, looked up from her book with a start, a rueful smile coming to her lips. "You have _no_ idea."

Ketar just kept looking between them, confusion written all over his features. " _What_?"

Serana just chuckled into her mead. "So what's it like working for a celebrity?"

"A bloody nightmare," Lydia answered in a grumble.

"Hey!"

The housecarl turned to her master placatingly. "Not because of you, Lord Dov."

"…oh. Right."

"Truth is, I hate working for him for the same reason he hates being famous."

"Never a moment of peace," Ketar commiserated. "Always someone or other coming to me for help, and usually for the most _inane_ things." He made a face at the far wall, voice suddenly going falsetto. "'Oh, Lord Dov, my chickens are being preyed on by foxes. Lord Dov, I think my husband's cheating on me. Lord Dov, would you sign my chest?'"

Serana's eyebrows hiked upward. "People have wanted you to…sign their chests?"

He let out a long, drawn-out groan as Lydia did the same.

"Okay," Serana said in a placating tone, "enough said."

"Suffice to say," Lydia explained, "if he went anywhere _near_ an amulet or Temple of Mara, all eligible—and a few non-eligible—women in sight would be on him like flies on a corpse."

Serana gave Ketar a sideways look. "I would think any other man would _love_ that sort of attention."

Ketar shot her a look that was both offended and horrified. " _Everyone_ thinks that…until it _happens_." His arms crossed defensively. "And whatever gave you the impression that I was just like 'any other man'? Hm?"

Serana smirked and held her hands up in surrender. "I stand corrected." Her throat cleared. "If you don't mind, I'd like to freshen up a little."

"There's a washroom just up the stairs," Lydia explained.

She bowed her head slightly. "My thanks."

…

Ketar watched Serana go, wondering at the way she silently seemed to glide up the stairs when he felt eyes on him from the side. An irritated sigh came from his throat. "What?"

Lydia just smirked at him with crossed arms.

He turned to face her fully. " _What_?"

"Oh, nothing," she sing-songed as she turned back to her book.

Ketar's expression went completely deadpan as he stared at her. "That's not funny."

Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. "It's kind of funny." She turned back to face him. "You know, I've never _actually_ seen you like this." She nodded toward the stairs. " _She_ may not notice, because she's only been around you for what, a few hours? But I do. You're nervous."

He chewed his lower lip and pouted a bit, arms crossed defensively. "Well you don't have to rub my face in it," he grumbled.

Lydia shook her head and smiled as she stood and moved over to him. "I'm not trying to rub your face in it, but what fun would this be if I didn't get to tease you about it?" She glanced at the stairs and lowered her voice. "Where did you _find_ this girl?"

He looked up at her. "In a coffin, buried deep in an old Nordic crypt."

Lydia's eyebrows skyrocketed.

"Apparently she's old enough to be my great grandmother's great great great great great—" his eyes rolled, "—you get the point."

"Wow…that's…" she scratched the side of her head, "I mean, I always suspected you'd go older, but…"

"Nobody's _going_ for anything. She's just…someone I met. Someone I'm helping."

Lydia just stared at him.

Ketar sighed. "Lydia, I get that you're insistent on ensuring my well-being, but for the love of Talos, would you _please_ stop acting like a gossiping old woman and _not_ make this weird?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Excuse me?"

A horrified expression came to Ketar's face.

"Who are _you_ calling old?"

…

The sudden yelps and half-screams of pain and terror coming from downstairs had Serana sprinting to the staircase with her Elven dagger drawn and a lightning spell ready in her left hand. Only for her to stop short and gape at the sight of Ketar being hoisted from his seat by his ear, held by a very cross-looking Lydia, who was twisting the appendage at an odd angle.

"Aah-aah—apples, apples!"

"What do you say?"

He sighed hard, wincing, then answering in an annoyed tone that spoke of an often-rehashed argument. "You're still a vigorous young woman, Lydia, and no one should ever say otherwise."

She drew close to stare him directly in the face. "And don't ever forget it."

Lydia released him abruptly, the younger man rubbing his ear and sending her a betrayed glare. The Nord woman just smirked and strutted back to her book with a smug air. Serana, meanwhile, was just staring at the exchange with an unabashed gape. She took a breath to ask something, then decided against it and made sure to make noise coming down the steps as Ketar was about to retake his seat. Suddenly, he stopped short, and if she concentrated, Serana could just make out a faint purple glow coming from a pouch at the back of his belt.

He sighed and glanced over at Serana. "Excuse me," he said, passing her on the stairs.

She stared after him for a few moments before turning to a preoccupied Lydia. "What does he do, when he goes off like that?"

Lydia looked up at her, then at the stairs, and back. "It's…a magic thing. He has this amulet that allows him to communicate with others who share the same amulet."

"Oh," Serana said. "Then, why does he always go off into a corner whenever he uses it?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Would _you_ want someone eavesdropping on your conversations?"

Serana shrugged. "Good point."

"That, and the amulet itself is…special."

Her brows furrowed in question at the ambiguous statement.

"Dragon Bridge!" Ketar shouted from above as he practically bounded down the stairs. "The Moth Priest was last seen at Dragon Bridge."

Serana snapped to him. "That's…great news. But, that's quite a distance from here."

"Which is why we better get moving immediately, before he moves on. You ready?"

She nodded.

"Then let's move." He made for the door as Lydia also got up and moved toward them, a small sack transferring from her grip to his. "Lydia, listen."

She straightened attentively.

He frowned. "If the Thalmor keep harassing you, I want you to leave notice with the Jarl and go to my house in Hjaalmarch. It'll be safer there."

Lydia sighed. "Ketar—"

"Please, Lydia."

Her lips pursed for a few moments before she nodded in acquiescence.

Ketar embraced her tightly for a moment before making for the door. "Come on," he called to Serana with a wave.

She followed close behind him, moving out the door with one last glance at his eccentric bodyguard.

…

Dragon Bridge was as he'd remembered it: quiet, peaceful, and absolutely overrun by Imperial soldiers. No doubt they'd stepped up security in response to the arrival of the Moth Priest, and if he was right, he'd either be with them or they'd have at least an idea of where he might be now. Spotting a cluster of soldiers in Imperial armor near the town inn, he zeroed in on the weakest, most unsure-looking one of the group.

"Ho! Soldier!" Ketar called as he intentionally deepened his voice, one hand outstretched.

A wide-eyed Imperial turned and peered at him from behind his helmet. "Citizen," he greeted formally.

Ketar sent a hooded Serana a concealed grin, as if to say "watch this." He turned back to the soldier and pulled his own hood back. "Draco Nielson. I've orders from Imperial City requesting the swift return of the Moth Priest to Cyrodiil. I have credible evidence of a threat against his life."

The soldier frowned and glanced at one of his mates. "We've no idea what you're talking about, and even if we did, and you are indeed one of us," he poked Ketar's black leather armor, "you aren't in uniform."

Ketar's eyes narrowed dangerously at the soldier's offending hand, then at his face, and he practically growled out his next words as he got up in said face. "You would _dare_ to question a _captain_ of the Penitus Oculatus?"

The soldier's eyes went wide. "I—uh—but—your uniform—"

"Have you no wits, soldier?" he interrupted sharply with a tap to his forehead. "Don't you know an undercover disguise when you see one? Now. Moth Priest. Where?"

The legionnaire sputtered for a few moments before straightening with a formal salute. "Yes sir. We sent him due south over Dragon Bridge with a detachment of soldiers about half an hour ago."

"Do you know where they were heading?"

"No, sir. Our centurion kept the details of his mission to himself."

Ketar nodded. "As it should be. Where is your centurion now?"

"With the Priest, sir. H-He insisted on escorting the carriage himself."

He looked down and away in thought. "So they'll be moving slowly. Couldn't have gotten that much of a head start." He looked back to the soldier. "Thank you, corporal. You've been a great help." He spun on his heel, casting a mildly impressed Serana a glance. "Come, Sera. We need to catch up to them."

A minute or two of riding on Stormbreaker's thick back passed in silence before Serana broke it.

"Sera?"

He shrugged. "Best alias I could come up with for you on short notice."

"Hm," she hummed distractedly, nose wrinkling as she sniffed audibly. "Something smells…burnt." Her voice sharpened. "And dead."

Ketar's eyes widened in alarm. "Point me."

She did, and Stormbreaker broke off into a gallop, pounding the dirt road until even _Ketar_ could smell the smoke. And the death. Then he saw it, and his jaw clenched hard enough to hurt. What was left of the carriage was strewn with the bloody, pasty remains of what was left of the escorts. Pieces of armor, horse, and human flesh were scattered in a roughly twenty-foot radius around the overturned vehicle. Serana gave Ketar a worried glance when he went deathly quiet, his black hood obscuring his features from her angle.

"Ketar?"

Instead of replying, he pushed himself from the saddle and crouched by a set of ash-covered clothes, reaching down with one finger to dip his finger in the ash, then bring it to his lips. For the briefest of moments, his outline shimmered with the effects of bent light, and he spat when it passed.

"Vampires." He stood and began looking around the grisly scene.

Serana sniffed the air. "Two were killed, by the smell."

Ketar looked around for the other pile of ash, then began turning over the pockets of the clothes left behind, finding a bloodstained note.

Serana eyed him carefully as he read it. "Anything?"

He glanced up at her and nodded. "Forebears' Holdout." He tucked the note into the pouch at his back. "It's not far from here. Maybe a few minutes' ride." Ketar leapt for the saddle, jostling Serana a bit as he settled behind the reins and snapped them sharply. "What'll they do to the priest? Chances are they need him as much as we do."

She frowned. "You're right, they do. Chances are, they'll try to compel him to work for them, as a thrall. Depending on how strong his will is, he might be able to resist for a while, but not indefinitely. My father wouldn't send a vampire weak enough that any mortal could resist forever."

"Then we'd better hurry. If they left Dragon Bridge a half hour ago, chances are they were attacked within minutes of getting on the road, which means they've had all this time to work on him."

"Still, Moth Priests have to have strong minds in order to read the Elder Scrolls without going mad, so there's a chance he's still lucid."

Ketar glanced back at her. "And if he isn't?"

Serana frowned. "Then I have a plan B, but it could get…unpleasant."

He snorted and turned forward with a shake of his head. "Lovely. Hyaa!"

He snapped the reins again, coming within sight of the cave that housed the Holdout within a few short minutes. Ketar launched himself from the saddle with Serana close behind, charging into the cave with muffled steps and coming to a stop once they reached the top of a ledge overlooking a large, open area of the cave. Inside was a two-tiered, fort-like enclosure, with something glowing at the top tier. Additionally, sporadic campfires and torches were lit around the inside of the cave, and even without focusing hard, he could see movement illuminated by their comparatively faint glows. Dark blue eyes narrowed as he scanned the darkness, hearing distant voices speaking to one another in urgent tones.

His jaw tightened. _Must be the vampire trying to break the Priest._ Closing his eyes, he Whispered. " _Laas-Yah-Nir_." When they opened once more, he could see scattered red auras all around the large chamber. "I count eleven—make that twelve auras in all."

Serana gave him a questioning look, but said nothing. She'd seen enough of his Voice's power to understand some of what he was capable of. "One of them's undoubtedly the Priest."

He nodded. "Two…make that three gargoyles patrolling the entrance to that structure. Profiles are too big to be anything else." His eyes turned to the side, to the small underground creek between them and the fort. "Four small profiles, horizontal and low to the ground. Death hounds." He looked up at the highest tier. "The last four are up there. Assuming they're spread evenly between thralls and vampires, it'll be two for two."

Serana stared at him sideways for a few seconds, tilting her head slightly. "That's…pretty spot-on, actually. Based on the scents and sounds, I figured about the same thing."

He smirked. "You've got your vampire blood, I have my dragon blood."

She gave him another sideways glance. "So…the two can't mix?"

His mirth immediately vanished, voice low. "Better than you might think."

Serana fell silent at his cryptic remark.

"Either way, I do _not_ like these odds. We need to find a way to thin them out or they'll overrun us."

"I'll go high," she said, coiling up in a crouch. "Cause a disturbance on the upper levels, maybe draw some of the gargoyles off. Can you take the hounds?"

Ketar brandished his crossbow and loaded it, already taking aim on the most isolated beast. "Haven't had trouble with them yet. But we need to do this fast."

Serana's jaw set as she faced her target, coiling up for a leap. "When you're ready."

He waited another moment or so before taking the shot on the first death hound. "Go!"

Ketar blinked, and she was gone, leaving him alone to reload and fire on the next creature to come looking for its fallen comrade. The second hound went down just as easily, but the third proved quite difficult when it spotted him and started howling. Grimacing, he fired off one last shot with the crossbow before slinging it and leaping from the ledge, catching sight of movement from either side of his peripheral vision. The gray, stony wings of a gargoyle beat heavily above him as he sprinted toward the fort's entrance, the Blade of Woe clearing its sheath as he dashed through the archway. He dove toward the fire in the center of the entrance courtyard and rolled on impact with the hard stone floor when he caught movement from above, and a good thing he did because a gargoyle came crashing down on his last location a split-second later.

Whirling around, his left hand channeled a lightning spell, the electric arc slamming into the creature and stunning it for a brief moment. Ketar was about to settle in for a rough fight when suddenly, a living shadow descended from a balcony above and landed directly on the gargoyle. A thrust of a pale, bare palm into its head turned it sharply to one side and broke its neck, its body turning to stone and crumbling a few moments later.

Ketar's eyes went wide. _Note to self—never piss off Serana_.

His eyes went wider when her head snapped up suddenly, and he saw her eyes burning even brighter than they usually were, fangs bared. She lunged for the nearby stairs and started bounding up them at an inhuman pace, an audible snarl coming from her throat as she charged toward a thrall and another gargoyle barring her path. A quick glance up at the balcony revealed the bloodied form of another thrall hanging over the railing, eyes dead.

 _Okay…_ really _never_ _piss off Serana._

Shaking himself, he also made for the stairs. " _Wuld_!"

The single word of his Whirlwind Sprint was enough to carry him to the top, where he sheathed his Blade and reloaded his crossbow. A loud bark from behind prompted him to whirl around and put a bolt in a charging death hound's foreleg, its teeth chattering and chomping at the air as it fell several steps short of reaching him. A powerful explosive blast of fire was enough to finish it off, along with scorching its approaching brother. Ketar broke off in a sprint toward the center of the upmost tier, where a massive glowing barrier was containing a bearded man in pale gray robes.

Between Ketar and the Priest were Serana and her two opponents, the gargoyle managing to keep her at bay while the thrall used the superior range of his greatsword to take intermittent swings at her. A crossbow bolt to the chest ended his interference, and as he came within fifteen paces of Serana, she dashed away from a claw swipe just in time for him to take a breath.

" _Fus-Ro-Dah_!"

The massive explosion of force that came from his mouth blew the gargoyle to pieces.

 _Still one left,_ he mentally noted, legs rapidly carrying him toward the two vampires at the end of the bridge.

He glanced back to see Serana tangle with another gargoyle, right hand dipping to the back of his belt to draw the Blade of Woe as his left hand charged another fireball and hurled it at the furthest vampire, an Orc who was chanting on an elevated podium at some sort of stone pedestal or altar. Snarling, he ducked the magical projectile, unaware that it was primed to explode and getting scorched from behind. His underling charged for Ketar, steel axe swinging wildly and glancing off his underhand-held dagger as the Dragonborn twisted away. Spinning with dance-like fluidity, Ketar ducked under the vampire's next wild swing and lunged for his gut with an underhanded stab that was deflected with a slap to his wrist.

The vampire countered with a firm thrust-kick that laid him out on his back, the axe-blade coming down toward his head and barely stopped when he caught it in the groove just above the finger-guard. With his left forearm braced against the back of the Blade and right hand's knuckles whitening around the hilt, he took a deep breath and pushed back against the creature's inhuman might.

" _Yol_!"

The vampire shrieked and staggered backward as part of his face was melted off by Ketar's fire breath, allowing the Dragonborn to regain his footing and lunge for his chest with another thrust. His attack was intercepted when he was bear-hugged from behind by stony arms. Panic flashed through him as he whirled around, looking for and spotting Serana fending off her gargoyle and the last death hound. His eyes narrowed in confusion for a moment before he brought his hips up and slammed both feet into the reeling vampire, managing to throw the gargoyle off-balance.

With his hips still in the air, he snapped his entire body downward, finally managing to break the gargoyle's hold on him and pivot his dagger to stab it in the side. The beast screeched and reeled, making a swipe at his head and managing to tear a small gash in his hood as he rolled away, crossbow rising with him. He took aim for barely a split-second before putting a bolt between its eyes. Ketar lunged forward and kicked it off the side, its body shattering on impact with the ground as he turned toward the rising vampire. Rapid movement in the corner of his eye prompted him to whirl toward the source, Blade at the ready but not up in time to block the sword-lunge of the other vampire.

A massive clang split the air, causing him to flinch and blink and revealing the vampire's blade caught in the groove on the back of Serana's elven dagger.

"Malkus," she hissed with effort. "Should've known my father would send a brute like you for a task like this. He always did lack tact."

Malkus snarled back at her. "And you always lacked loyalty, blood traitor."

They struggled against each other for a moment or two before she snarled and threw him sideways. Ketar was about to nail him with a crossbow bolt when the sounds of four statues shattering all around them grabbed his attention. Suddenly, Serana drew back toward him, dagger and a spell at the ready as they were effectively surrounded by vampires and at least four more gargoyles.

"That's impossible," he said, pressing his back against hers. "I didn't see them before."

"They must not register when they're asleep," she said, lips pursing as Malkus made his way back to the stone altar.

Sheathing the Blade of Woe, Ketar prepared identical spells in either hand, firing them off and reaching out into the air as two wickedly curved swords formed from the Aether and fell into his grip.

Serana glanced back at him, keeping a wary eye on the bared fangs of their circling enemies. "Didn't know you had talent in Conjuration magic."

He snorted. "I'm the Arch-Mage of Winterhold. They're not my preferred weapons—" he twirled both ethereal swords in spirals, "—but they'll do for now."

The remaining vampire roared at them, and as one, the gargoyles charged forward, Serana taking shots at them with her kinetic bolts and swiping at whatever came too close. Ketar was twirling in endless circles, blades constantly moving as he used their complete lack of weight to turn their paths into a blinding spiral of death. The gargoyles, apparently, knew enough to be wary, because after the first few glancing hits, they kept their distance, biding their time to strike. When one finally lunged forward, he ducked under its high swipe, dropping one summoned blade to thrust his remaining one into its lower chest with both hands. The other gargoyle was instantly on top of him, but a raven-haired form slammed shoulder-first into its hulking body, sending it crashing backward.

"Stop Malkus!" Serana shouted, shattering an incoming ice spike with her dagger. "I'll keep the rest of them busy!"

He glanced over his shoulder. "Are you sure about this?"

In reply, she spun around another spike, grabbed the crook of his empty arm, and spun to switch sides with him while simultaneously flinging him toward the chanting Orc. Using his momentum, Ketar broke off into a run, a lightning bolt striking a gargoyle who lunged for him and a crossbow bolt nailing another one in the shoulder. With Serana's cries of fury at his back, he sprinted past the barrier toward Malkus, the Blade of Woe clearing its sheath as he used the podium's stairs to leap for him in a falling stab from the side. The Orc whirled around at the last second, massive hand grabbing him by the neck and throwing him back-first onto the ground.

Ketar exhaled hard as all the wind rushed from his lungs, managing to stay coherent enough to dodge the falling boot-heel and slash Malkus' ankle with his Blade. Feeling himself regenerating even from the glancing hit, Ketar lunged to his feet and started taking swipes at the larger vampire, the Orc dodging his strikes with ease and elbowing him in the chest when he dodged a particularly far thrust. The blow knocked him backward and opened him up to a drawing cut that sent blood running down his left arm as he barely withdrew in time. Malkus lunged forward, causing Ketar to dive out of his way, but the vampire turned at the last second and grabbed him by the hood, throwing him over the side of the podium and against the glowing barrier.

A few heavy breaths exited his lungs as Malkus vaulted over the rail of the podium and landed in a crouch just deep enough to support his forward lunge. The Orc's curved orichalcum sword slammed against the magical barrier before he spun and made another swipe at Ketar's head, the smaller man managing to outpace him for the moment. He waited until Malkus lunged for him, then sidestepped and deflected his blade away, using his forward momentum to push him past and his right leg to trip him into a cluster of wooden barrels that shattered on impact. In the seconds it took for Malkus to recover, Ketar sheathed the Blade and brought both hands up and out in front of him.

His eyes closed for a brief moment as he called upon a familiar source of power within him, his dragon blood calling out as the fingers of one hand pressed against the palm of the other, and vice versa. The fingers curled and hooked against each other, expanding to go flat once more as a quiet sizzle was heard in the air. Then his left hand went straight down six inches while his right did the same going upward, a single streak of golden light and sparks splitting the air in front of them. Both hands moved clockwise, the streak turning with them and creating what looked like a sundial of sparks and light that quickly fizzled out, a long shape emerging from its depths as Ketar's right hand snapped out to its top.

Malkus roared and lunged for him as his fingers wrapped around the hilt of a golden sword, his left joining it a moment later as they both spun the blade counterclockwise into an upper block. The Orc's first strike skidded off his blade, as did the second and third when he turned his sword to deflect and parry each one. He counterattacked on the fourth strike, managing to score a deep gash in Malkus' side and causing him to roar in pain and withdraw as the flayed skin burned. Eyes burning with hate, the Orc lunged for him again, and their swords clashed over and over in a deadly circular dance until a powerful blow separated Ketar from his weapon. A quick swipe of Malkus' sword cut a gash in his left leg, but he powered through the pain and ducked his next strike, catching his sword-arm when it came back and just managing to keep it away from him.

Grunting and hissing in strain as the weapon steadily approached him, Ketar glanced to the side to see Serana thrown against a stone wall and nearly shredded by a gargoyle, whose claws cut deep gouges in the wall instead. Taking a few heavy breaths, he roared and leapt off the ground, his hips popping upward as both legs wrapped around Malkus' head. His falling body weight took the vampire off his feet, and the moment they hit the ground, Ketar spun with a left cross that actually broke off one of the Orc's lower fangs. His hands wrapped around Malkus' armed wrist as he rolled forward, legs locking around the attached arm and shoulder and pulling hard.

A loud pop coincided with the vampire's agonized screams as his shoulder was dislocated and hand disarmed of his sword—which was then used to pin said shoulder to the ground by being driven through almost up to the hilt. The Orc's screams and shrieks of pain split the air as he thrashed about wildly, Ketar's boot planting firmly on his chest. He caught sight of two gargoyles dragging Serana back against a wall, the vampire she was facing attempting to hit her with his axe but finding himself unable when she kicked it out of his hand and pivoted to slam her boot into the side of his head. The pureblood managed to shake free of her captors in an elegant corkscrew of her body, red cloak falling around her like wings as she landed in a wide crouch.

Suddenly, the stunned vampire spotted Malkus' condition and started running for Ketar. The Dragonborn's eyes alit on his sword, a golden jewel in the center of its cross-guard flaring with light, and with a burst of Alteration magic, he used telekinesis to summon it back to him, snatching it underhandedly.

"Serana!"

He raised the blade high into the air as she turned to see him grasp its hilt in both hands. His eyes flashed with fire as the vampire and gargoyles closed to barely twenty feet.

"Get down!"

With a single roar of righteous fury, Ketar brought the sword down like a lightning bolt, piercing through Malkus' heart and well into the stone below. A second after Serana leapt off the side of the building, the jewel in the cross-guard opened with a distinct click.

And a _massive_ blast of pure, blinding light overtook the entire platform, the air split with the pulsing roar of its power as the two remaining gargoyles were turned to stone in seconds and the two vampires to dust almost _instantly_. About five seconds after it began, the sword's gem clicked shut once more, stopping the flow of holy light and allowing Ketar to see again as he slowly drew it from the stone.

"What—was _that_?"

Ketar glanced toward Serana, then held the sword up to the faint light emitted by the barrier, the jewel in its cross-guard actually emitting a great deal more. So much, in fact, that when Serana got closer, she put a hand up to block it from getting in her eyes.

"This…is Dawnbreaker, a powerful Daedric artifact of Meridia. I got it about a year ago for doing her a favor." He bent down to rifle through Malkus' armor with his unoccupied hand. "It's specifically designed to kill undead, burns any it even touches, and when it kills one—" He motioned to their surroundings. "Well…you saw. The problem is that it doesn't tend to discriminate between friend and foe…which is why I don't like using it very often. Ah!" He pulled out a small, teardrop-shaped stone with glowing green runes carved into its surface. He gave the Priest's enclosure a nod. "Barriers like these usually come with keys."

Serana eyed his sword with a frown. "You learn that in your time at Winterhold?"

"Actually, yes." He chuckled as he moved toward the altar, suspecting—there it was. "The journey to becoming Arch-Mage was _not_ an easy one, I can tell you that."

"Arch-Mage at twenty? Sounds impossible."

Ketar smirked as he inserted the stone into a slot in the altar about its size and shape. "This coming from the millennia-old pureblood vampire?"

"…touché."

Seconds later, the glowing barrier finally fell, and the wizened old Priest began to stand, taking one look at Malkus' ashes, then glaring at the pair.

"Uh-oh," Ketar muttered.

The Priest lunged for Malkus' sword and rose to face them. "I serve my master's will. But my master is dead, and his enemies will pay!"

Ketar tensed and braced for another fight, but Serana just stepped forward, the index and middle fingers of her right hand pointing at his head, and spoke with a firm, dominating voice.

"Sleep."

Immediately, the Priest stopped in his tracks, dropped the sword, and fell over. Ketar lunged forward to catch him, gently lowering his body to the ground.

"W-What did you _do_?"

Serana crouched next to him with a frown. "Malkus may have been a brute, but he was also incredibly strong of will. Overcoming his compulsion would take a much stronger will—or a good knock to the head." She stood up with Ketar, one of the unconscious Priest's arms slung around her shoulders while he did the same with the other. "If he's not lucid when he wakes up, we may have to go that route."

"Right." Ketar frowned. "We better get him out of here before more vampires show up. But first, you mind taking him for a second?"

Serana's brows furrowed. "Okay?"

Ketar gently handed the man's weight off to her, Serana taking it seemingly without effort as he held Dawnbreaker out in front of him and used telekinesis to hold it suspended midair, his hands on either side in front of and behind it. His left hand went up, his right down, and the same sparking line from before was formed in the air, the appendages moving counter-clockwise this time and unfolding the sundial in the opposite direction, the light engulfing the blade. He brought his hands back together as the line closed, fingers against opposing palms, and hooked those fingers together as one last point of light finally vanished. He let his hands fall to his sides a moment later and made his way back toward Serana, who was gaping at him outright.

"How—did you do that? Some kind of advanced Conjuration?"

He grunted with the effort of taking half of the Priest's weight. "More like teleportation." He grunted again as they started toward the exit. "I've actually been able to do that since I was eight years old."

"Again—how?"

Ketar frowned a little in thought. "Well…I'm not actually sure. But, with what I know now, what I've researched, I think the combination of my dragon blood and Breton heritage allows me to access some kind of…dimensional rift."

"A _what_?"

He sighed hard. "I don't really understand it all that well myself, but…look, technically speaking, dragons are the children of Akatosh, right? Well, he's also the God of Time, and since time and space are irrevocably connected, that of space as well. Near as I can tell, the heavy magical essence in my blood, both dragon and Breton, allows me to open a small gateway into his realm, where objects of use can be stored and recalled at will using that sigil I drew in the air. I figured Dawnbreaker would come in handy if I were going up against vampires, so I threw it in there before we left Whiterun."

"That's…useful."

"Yeah, well, to a point. Same as magical power is tied to one's ability to store and absorb magicka, I think my control over the rift is limited to my physical strength. I can only store up to what I'd be able to lift, because every time I open it, I feel the weight of everything inside pressing down on me."

"Which prevents you from storing too much."

"Exactly."

Serana was silent for a while, pulling her hood up when they finally stepped outside. "Still useful."

"Oh yeah, definitely. Saved my life more than a few times, as I think you saw." Ketar grunted and huffed as he and Serana hauled the unconscious Priest onto Stormbreaker's back. "Anyway, we should head back to the Fort. Isran will want to hear what's on that Scroll."

Serana frowned and crossed her arms, looking off into the distance.

"He won't hurt you, Serana."

She turned toward him as he held his hand out to her from astride the horse.

"Not while I'm around."

Lips pursing, a smile twitched at her features for a moment before she took his hand and let him haul her up into the saddle. "Sure your horse can take the weight?"

Ketar smirked as he pulled his own hood back up. "Trust me, long as we're not galloping, Stormbreaker can take _loads_ more over long-distance." His smirk turned into a cheeky grin a moment later. "Besides, what are you, like eighty pounds soaking wet?"

Serana gave him crossed arms and a completely deadpan look. "Funny guy."

His grin just widened.

…

"Hey. Oi! Rise and shine!"

Ketar smirked as the Moth Priest jerked awake with a startled yelp, blinking up at him, Serana, and Isran curiously. Upon seeing her eyes, his own widened in alarm.

"Easy, friend," Ketar said soothingly. "Easy. She's with us." He smiled. "Point of fact, she's why you're just dealing with a little confusion and not a splitting headache."

He glanced between Ketar and Serana several times. "I…what?"

"You were under the sway of a vampire," Isran said, bringing the man a small mug of something to wake him up.

The Priest cautiously took a sip or two, apparently pleasantly surprised at both the taste and effects, and the room was silent for a minute or two as he got his bearings. "Then…I suppose I have you to thank for freeing me. Dexion Evicus is my name."

"A pleasure," Ketar replied with a small frown. "But I'm not gonna lie, sir. It wasn't just out of the goodness of our hearts. We need your help."

He looked up at him questioningly. "The vampires _said_ they had some sort of purpose in store for me. Wouldn't say what. I'm guessing you know."

Ketar nodded toward Isran. "We're a group of vampire hunters known as the Dawnguard, and like them…we need your help to read an Elder Scroll."

Dexion's entire face lit up like the northern sky as he leapt to his feet with energy that belied his age. "You have an Elder Scroll? Remarkable!" He started pacing as thoughts just began pouring out. "If my knowledge of history serves me, I recall that the Dawnguard was an ancient order of vampire hunters. I will be _happy_ to assist you with your Elder Scroll. Do you have it here?"

"We do," Isran replied. "Right this way."

The leader of the Dawnguard guided the three of them to the entrance chamber, glancing over at Ketar. "Frankly, I'm impressed you were able to find him so quickly."

The younger man grinned. "If the last two years in Skyrim have taught me anything, it's that nothing is more important than having friends."

Dexion was looking around like a child in a candy stall. "This fortress is _remarkable_. I have colleagues back home that would love to study this place in detail."

Isran smirked and retrieved the Scroll from a false brick in one of the walls. "I'm sure they would."

Ketar exchanged a look with Serana and mouthed, "Paranoid."

She bit down on her lower lip to suppress a laugh, managing to keep it back as they both returned their attention to Dexion.

Isran gingerly handed the Scroll to the Priest. "Are you ready?"

"Of course. Let us see what secrets this Scroll holds." Reaching for its exposed tab, Dexion pulled the Scroll out, spreading it fully and peering into its depths as his eyes went unfocused. "I see a vision before me, an image of a great bow." His eyes lit up. "I know this weapon! It is Auriel's Bow! Now a voice whispers, saying, 'Among the night's children, a dread lord will rise. In an age of strife, when dragons return to the realm of men, darkness will mingle with light and the night and day will be as one.'"

Dexion winced a bit, Ketar frowning at his sudden discomfort.

Still, he continued. "The voice fades and the words begin to shimmer and distort. But wait, there is more here. The secret of the bow's power is written elsewhere. I think there is more to the prophecy, recorded in other scrolls. Yes, I see them now..." He grimaced slightly. "One contains the ancient secrets of the dragons, and the other speaks of the potency of ancient blood. My vision darkens, and I see no more." He looked up at the rest of them, rolling the Scroll back up. "To know the complete prophecy, we _must_ have the other two Scrolls." Dexion staggered on his feet, Isran catching his arm and relieving him of the heavy Scroll. "I must rest now. The reading has made me weary."

"Right this way, old man," Isran replied, helping him into one of the rooms.

Serana looked up at a grim-faced Ketar. "So, I guess this little quest of ours just got more complicated."

"Maybe," he replied, "maybe not."

Her brows furrowed. "How do you mean?"

Ketar made for the exit gate, Serana close behind. "About three months ago, or thereabouts, I delved into a Dwemer ruin looking for a way to stop the dragons." He glanced back at her as they stepped out into the night. "I found it."

Her sunset-colored eyes widened, drawing his gaze. "You have one of the Elder Scrolls."

He smirked and gave her a short, almost imperceptible nod.

"Where?"

A grin spread over his features as he made for the door. "With my dear deranged housecarl."

Serana arched an eyebrow at him in question.

He just chuckled and kept walking. "It's a long story."

She looked toward him with a commanding tone. "Well then we'll have plenty of time to discuss it along the way."

Ketar grinned and slowly shook his head. "Always so pushy. So _impatient_."

Serana snorted. "You can thank my thousand-year nap for that."

* * *

AN: This one turned out long, but necessarily so. I needed to introduce Lydia and my solution to the "inventory conundrum," as I like to call it. The next chapter will pretty much be entirely original, introduce some new characters—or at least new aspects to existing characters—and unveil the purpose of something I've alluded to in past chapters. Hope you're still enjoying this and will stick around for more.

 _Oya, vode._

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

Dracula Untold - The Brood: Forebears' Holdout assault begins/back to back  
Clash of the Titans - Scorpiox: summoning ethereal swords/Ketar vs. Malkus/unleashing Dawnbreaker


	5. Nocturnal's Embrace

"Ketar!"

The man in question stopped short halfway down the steps of Fort Dawnguard, turning toward the speaker, who was running toward them with a smile.

"Looks like I made the cut after all."

Ketar grinned and gripped his forearm firmly. "Well done, Agmaer. Never doubted you for a second."

He chuckled nervously, casting Serana a lingering glance. "Well… _I_ certainly did. But Isran's an _amazing_ teacher. Said I had natural talent with a crossbow."

"I know. I saw during the last attack."

"Attack?" Serana asked suddenly, catching both of their attention.

Ketar frowned. "When I returned here after escorting you to Volkihar, there was a group of vampires who assaulted the fortress. We repelled them without casualties, but it was a close fight."

She frowned and let out a hard sigh.

Agmaer looked over at her curiously, clearing his throat. "So…you're the vampire who's been helping out?"

She looked to him with an arched eyebrow. "Serana," she said, outstretching her hand.

He grasped it by the forearm. "I-I'm Agmaer." He shrugged. "I'm new here."

"Technically," Ketar interrupted, "so am I."

"Well, yes, but you're, well… _you_."

He arched an eyebrow at the other man. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"N-Never mind." Agmaer turned back to Serana. "So…off on another mission?"

"Of sorts," she replied. "More of a scavenger hunt, really."

"Need any backup?" He started going visibly red when she gave him an amused smile. "I-I mean, I know I still have a lot to learn about being a Dawnguard, or a fighter in general, but…" He cast another shy glance at Serana.

Ketar felt a mildly irritating feeling stir in his gut as he smiled and stepped forward. "While I appreciate the offer, Agmaer, where we're going is kind of a secret. The person who lives there doesn't take kindly to strangers." He snorted a laugh. "Frankly, they're as likely to run you through as talk to you."

Serana shot him a look.

Agmaer's eyes went wide in alarm as he paled a little. "Well…uh…you certainly keep interesting company."

Ketar grinned. "Keeps life from getting boring, at the least. At any rate, it's probably best if we go alone."

"Right. Well…let me know how it goes."

He snorted. "Ultimately, if we fail, I doubt we'll need to." A frown creased his features. "All of Tamriel is likely to find out."

Agmaer nodded grimly. "Take care. A pleasure to meet you, Lady Serana," he added with a slight bow to her.

That amused smile returned to her lips as the tip of one of her fangs just peeked out. "Likewise, Agmaer."

With another mild blush and stutter to his steps, the young hunter turned back for the mess hall. Once he was out of earshot, Serana turned to Ketar with a questioning look.

"You didn't have to scare him like that. I mean, we _are_ just going to see Lydia, right?"

He smirked and pulled his hood up. "Your point?"

Serana blinked, vision flashing with the memory of Ketar's terrified expression as she twisted his ear. "…fair enough."

…

"So, what's the deal with these 'Thalmor' characters? Why exactly do they hate you so much?"

Ketar let out a series of chuckles that were somewhere between bitter and exasperated. "Oh, where I do I even start? I think the first time I ever pissed them off was when I broke into their embassy near Solitude. It was back when the dragons were first coming back, and a…friend of mine suggested they might know something about it. She even suspected they might've been _causing_ it—which as I even knew at the time was utterly ridiculous." He winced. "She has an unfortunate…proclivity for paranoia, especially when it comes to the Aldmeri Dominion. Long years of war and the practical subjugation of one's beloved empire will do that to you, I suppose."

Serana frowned. "Why all the hate between this empire and the High Elves?"

Ketar's jaw tightened. "The Oblivion Crisis."

"The what?"

He sighed. "It's what they call the event that happened more than two hundred years ago, when Mehrunes Dagon tried to invade Tamriel. The Emperor of Cyrodiil, an illegitimate heir named Martin Septim, was forced to sacrifice himself to stop him from destroying the Empire, and probably all of Nirn." His frown deepened. "That ended the Septim line, and with it the only true strength the Empire had left. After that," he shrugged, "it didn't take much for a radical group of High Elves to opt for independence." He smirked and snorted a bitter laugh. "Want to know the funny part?"

"Doesn't sound like any of this is particularly funny."

Ketar's head tilted briefly. "I will grant you that. What's funny is that the Septim Empire's power only lasted as long as it did because of the quality of its ruling bloodline." He smirked over at her. "Dragon blood."

Her eyes widened.

"Until Martin sacrificed himself to stop Dagon, every emperor to date had been Dragonborn." Ketar smirked. "I guess, in that light, you could say that I _am_ royalty after all." His gaze turned back forward as he fell silent for a while. "But back to my original point; the Thalmor are a cruel, elitist bunch who look down on non-Mer races and scorn the worship of Talos on purely political grounds." He shrugged. "I don't much care either way, but to most humans—Nords especially, the Edda of Tiber Septim is a tale about the triumph of the human spirit in service of the Divines. Personally, I think the whole worship deal is a horrible pain to the object of said worship."

Serana shot him a look.

Another shrug. "I mean, think about it. Always having to answer all those prayers and deal with all those _people_ …" his head shook slowly, "it's enough to drive even those with the most stoic of fortitude mad."

Serana smirked. "So…not really a people person, are you?"

Ketar gave her a cheeky grin. "Oh, of _course_ I am…just not all the time." He sighed. "And unfortunately, gods never sleep." His expression went serious. "But even forgetting Talos, the way the Thalmor look down on others and insist on having things their way, by force if necessary…well, that's already enough to gain my ire." He glanced over at her. "It's why I'm insisting on tangling with your father."

Serana's lips pursed tightly.

He sighed. "Needless to say, my little infiltration wasn't the last time I crossed them. Not even close. As if assassinating every Thalmor witch hunter I came across wasn't enough, I also killed one of their top agents, Ancano, when he tried to steal something…powerful from the College after murdering the Arch-Mage. That was…" he winced, "not one of my easier fights. Couldn't really get close to the bastard, so I mostly had to make work of my spellcraft, which is…decent enough, I suppose."

"No need to be so modest," Serana laughed. "You seem to forget I've seen you in action, Ketar."

"Well, yes, but…that was a year ago." Another smirk. "Apparently, the ranking staff at the College were so impressed with my skills that they decided to let me come on as the next Arch-Mage. Probably the youngest in history."

"No doubt." Serana fell silent for a while. She frowned about a minute later. "I've been meaning to ask: how many houses do you own in Skyrim?"

Ketar blinked hard, tensing up a little.

"I mean, you have Breezehome in Whiterun and apparently this place in Hjaalmarch, but…I get the feeling there's more to it."

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "Well…I don't really like to brag, but…I sort of…have one in every Hold."

That _immediately_ snapped Serana's gaze to him. "Exactly how rich are you?"

His only answer was another long, nervous laugh.

…

"Welcome…to Windstad Manor."

Serana gaped outright. " _That_ is not a manor. That's a _mansion_ , Ketar."

He grinned as they made their way up the hill approach to a snow-covered stable. "Call it what you will, this is where I keep some of my more…interesting finds."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Like Elder Scrolls."

"Exactly." He waved at the front door. "Shall we?"

Serana smiled and followed him toward a massive, two-story domain with two towers, one on the side opposite the entrance, and the other on the left. A large one-story addition occupied the right side, with a chimney on its top and another one running out from the center of the house. Both were pouring thick gray smoke into the snowy air, indicating that Lydia was keeping the fireplaces well-stocked. The first thing Serana became aware of upon stepping through the door was the almost overpowering scent of saffron in the air, which itself wasn't much of a problem but to her overclocked senses was almost chokingly thick. The entrance room was comprised of a sitting desk facing the door and a few chairs set up around a small table, presumably to seat guests.

Once past that, they entered a large main hall, with a large fireplace at the far side and a long dining table arrayed with requisite chairs. Above them, there was only open air, with a ring of railed walkways comprising the second floor. Trophies of various animals and monsters were arrayed at roughly symmetrical points throughout the walls, though Serana noticed there was one piece missing. The most notable item, however, was a long, black talon mounted on the second floor's far wall. She had only ever seen another talon like that on the front of a dragon's wing. She could hear Ketar take a breath to say something, but stop short when a loud bang sounded from upstairs, coupled with a familiar voice crying out.

Ketar noticed it too, and held a finger to his lips as he made for the stairs.

The closer Serana listened though, the more alarmed she became, eyes going wide as she tried to wave him off in a whispering shout. "Ketar—Ketar, wait!"

Either he didn't hear her or elected to ignore her, because he kept moving upstairs toward the master bedroom, where all the sounds were coming from. Serana just groaned and braced herself as he approached the door and—

"Mother of Talos!"

The door slammed closed a split-second later, an intensely pale and horrified-looking Ketar coming down the steps at a sedated, shell-shocked pace.

Serana sighed. "I tried to warn you."

He just shot her a look. "Warn me _louder_ next time."

The upstairs door opened once more, and Serana could distinctly hear two sets of footsteps proceed toward the stairs, a large blonde Nord with a thick but well-kept beard coming down with loud, stomping steps. A thinly-dressed and bedraggled Lydia followed behind him a moment later. Both were sending pointed grins at each other.

The Nord cautiously approached Ketar and cleared his throat. "You must be the master of the house, I'm—"

"Leaving," Ketar said in a pained, exasperated tone, " _please_."

He chuckled uneasily and nodded, turning to Lydia. "I'll…see you again later?"

Lydia threw him a smoky look. "Count on it."

Ketar just glared at her until he was gone, expression eventually melting into a mix of horror and exhaustion as he rubbed his face. "Ohhh…I am _never_ going to be able to unsee that."

"It's your own fault," Lydia said, reaching for a kettle over the fireplace. "You never sent word you were coming today. You could've _knocked_."

Ketar threw his hands up. "Well excuse me if I didn't feel the need to knock to enter my _own_ master bedroom. Besides, I could hear shouts and loud banging. It sounded like a struggle."

Lydia grinned at him salaciously. "Oh, there _was_."

His glare intensified, words hissed through clenched teeth. "Not. Funny."

His housecarl just began cackling, pouring the last of three mugs of boiling mead and adding a mixture of various substances to them. With all the grace of a trained hostess, she carried the three tankards over to the table, setting one down before handing the other two to them. "Here," she said, giving one to Serana, "you must be cold from the journey."

"Thanks." She accepted the drink with a shrug. "Actually, not really. Considering we're already dead, vampires don't really feel the cold all that much."

"Hm. Well all the same, the climb up here is no joke, I'll tell you that much. But the view…is great."

"Unless you're looking into my master bedroom," Ketar grumbled.

Lydia shot him an offended glare. "Hey, we already settled this. You should've knocked."

"It's _my_ room! There are more than a few beds in this house you could've desecrated that _aren't_ mine!"

"But that's the only one with an adequate…" she glanced up the stairs, "headboard."

Ketar just shook his head and let out a slow breath. He held out a hand to her. "I don't want to know. I _really_ don't. Just realize that I am _so_ burning my sheets before I go to bed tonight." He downed his tankard in one long drag before trudging his way up to the second floor. "I'll be back."

Serana stared after him for a moment before turning to a still-grinning Lydia, who was stirring something in a pot sitting over the fire. The slight blush on her cheeks and overall "glow" about her certainly seemed to indicate she'd enjoyed herself. The ancient vampire just shook her head and sighed.

"So what's the deal with you two, anyway?"

Lydia's head came up with a puzzled look. "Eh?"

Serana sighed again. "What I mean is…what are you to each other? Because you're not just his servant." Her arms crossed as she smirked. "I doubt any mere servant would get away with twisting the ear of her master or defiling his bed."

Lydia grinned for a moment before frowning in thought. She shrugged. "I'm not sure _what_ you would call what we are. He is…very dear to me. Not just a friend, not a lover, something…special. Something more." Lydia stared off into the distance as a wistful smile tugged at her lips. "Something that escapes definition." She turned back to Serana with a questioning glance. "Do you understand?"

Serana shrugged and pushed herself up to sit on the table. "Not really, but okay."

Lydia sighed and turned back to her work. "Something you should probably know about Ketar, in case you haven't figured it out already. Life, with him…is rarely simple." She smirked and chuckled. "I had the fairly normal life of a shield-maiden before he came along and ruined all that. Upturned my whole _view_ of the world. Expanded my horizons." She frowned a little. "Also drastically increased my chances of an early grave, but…" she shrugged, "when I heard I was assigned to the first man to kill a dragon in thousands of years, I sort of figured that was just part of the job."

"But it's not just a job to you, otherwise you probably wouldn't put up with all his crap."

Lydia smiled. "Don't let his usual gruff demeanor fool you, Serana." She looked up the stairs. "That boy has a heart of gold. Almost as eccentric as Sheogorath, but he cares more for strangers than many people do for their friends and family." Lydia arched an eyebrow at her. "Why do you think he looks out so well for you?"

Serana frowned. "I suppose…I haven't really thought about it. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, and all that. Considering how meeting the rest of his friends went…"

"Who, this Dawnguard organization?"

She nodded.

Lydia snorted. "Sweetheart, he barely knows those people. And hardly enough to call them friends."

"At least they're _human_."

Lydia gave her a sideways look. "You really think that matters much to him?"

Serana looked at her confusedly.

Her head shook slowly and sighed, stirring the pot again. "Take it from someone who's been with him pretty much from the beginning. He doesn't see flesh and bone and appearance. Well, he does, but that's not what I mean. What I mean is…he sees _who_ you are, not just _what_ you are. If he didn't…" she frowned deeply, "I think a _lot_ of people would be in _very_ big trouble."

Serana looked down and fell silent, the only sounds that of the fireplace's crackling and Lydia's work on the night's dinner. The sound of footsteps on creaking floorboards was heard a few minutes later, and Serana nearly outright gaped at Ketar as he strode down to the main level, decked out in blue finery with a golden-stitched collar and matching boots. His neck-length jet-black hair was a little shinier than she remembered a few minutes ago, and slicked back with an oil that smelled of earthy notes. A deep sapphire ring sat on his right ring finger and an amulet hung around his neck, reddish-gold in color with a curled-neck dragon as its centerpiece. She recognized it almost immediately as the semblance of Akatosh.

"You…look…wow."

Ketar blushed just visibly enough and smiled, clearing his throat. "Thank you."

Serana turned to Lydia. "Does he _usually_ look like this?"

"Not really. Usually it's too ostentatious for his taste." The housecarl snorted and gave a hint of a devious smile. "He tends to think he looks better in tight leather anyway."

"Leather," he corrected, "not necessarily tight."

"You won't find anyone complaining either way…except maybe all the men who miss out on opportunities with the ladies."

"Hey, it's not like it's my fault. I'd just as soon hand 'em over."

"That doesn't do you any favors."

Ketar shot her a look. "And why is that?"

"Because you're a stiff, and you _still_ get a cartload of women fawning over you…and that pisses the rest of the guys off."

His eyes rolled, and he tried to poke a finger into Lydia's pot until she smacked his hand away. "Also not my fault they have such fragile egos."

"What 'guys' are you talking about?" Serana asked as she pushed herself off the table.

Lydia smirked. "The men of Jorrvaskr. Among his many other admirable titles, he's also a member of the Companions, who are about as rough-and-tumble as they get. And _very_ popular with the ladies." She waved at Ketar. "Until he came along."

"Probably the most disturbing part was the sudden number of cougars suddenly sniffing my tail," he shuddered, "quite literally in some cases."

Serana arched an eyebrow. "Khajiit?"

"Werewolf. Name's Aela. Nice woman." He winced as his head shook slowly. "Terrible taste in men."

Her nose wrinkled slightly.

"Come on, don't be judgy. It's unbecoming, especially to one of your stature."

Serana crossed her arms. "Meaning what exactly?"

"Well, you know…nobility."

Her glowing eyes narrowed. "And what happened to not seeing me as some stuck-up noblewoman?"

He shrugged and managed to steal a taste of Lydia's dish, to her chagrin. "If the boot fits…"

"Don't listen to him," Lydia said. "It's true that they can be a mangy bunch of brutes, but they're not so bad once you get to know them."

Serana arched an eyebrow. "Wait…they? Meaning…how many werewolves exactly?"

Ketar frowned. "More than a few. That's ultimately why I decided not to move up in their ranks, into their Circle."

She narrowed her gaze. "Then why defend them? Or—me, for that matter?" She began counting with her fingers. "You reject vampirism; you reject lycanthropy—"

"And if I had the option to become an Elf or Argonian," he interrupted with an agitated tone, "or even a full-body _dragon_ , for that matter,I'd reject that too." Ketar gave her a particularly intense look. "Just because I don't want to change what I am doesn't mean I look down on those who are different. If I did, how would I be any better than the Thalmor?"

Sufficiently chastised, Serana fell silent and looked away.

His expression softened with a sigh. "It just…" he shrugged, "wasn't for me."

A long silence fell over the main hall until three metal clanks sounded from plates being laid on the table.

"Well," Lydia said, "now that the mood has _officially_ been ruined, let's eat."

Ketar sighed and took a seat opposite Serana, with Lydia at the head of the table. "Look," he said quietly, "I didn't mean to be so harsh. I just…" Another sigh as he made eye contact with Serana. "If you don't want me to jump to conclusions about your motivations, I expect the same courtesy in return."

She smiled a little and nodded. "I think that's more than fair."

They stared at each other for a few silent moments.

"Great," Lydia interrupted finally, "now if you're both done being dark and broody, _can we eat_?"

Ketar grinned and chuckled. "Yes, dear."

Lydia pointed her fork in his direction. "Don't call me dear. You know I don't like it when people call me dear."

"Then what does your beaux call you?" Serana asked with a devious smirk. "Precious?"

Lydia grinned. "Champion, actually. Because I can consistently drive him into the gro—"

"Okay," Ketar interrupted loudly, " _okay_ , _that's_ enough mentally scarring images for one night." He shot Serana a pointed glare. "Thank you for that."

To which she responded with a juvenile sticking out of her tongue and comradely wink at Lydia.

The Nord woman outright beamed at her, a downright diabolical twinkle in her eye. "At long last, a woman after my own heart. We are going to have such fun together…"

Ketar looked at them both with a horrified expression. "Oh Akatosh, what have I done?"

Both women broke out laughing uncontrollably while he focused all attention on his stew—which by the look on his face was almost good enough to make him forgive Lydia for the eyeful he'd gotten earlier. Almost.

…

Finally sated after the long trip—and indeed a long couple of days, Ketar felt sleep creeping into his bones and excused himself upstairs.

"We head out first thing in the morning," he glanced at Serana, "maybe even before dawn so your first hours on the road aren't uncomfortable."

She shrugged. "It's no problem, really. Purebloods like me aren't as affected by the sun as lesser vampires. Without a concentrated enough source, it's little more than a minor annoyance."

He frowned. "But…if it _was_ concentrated enough?"

Serana's lips pursed. "We're not immune to its effects. We just have a much higher threshold."

He nodded slowly, turning for the steps.

"A lot of places to hide an Elder Scroll here"

Ketar stopped short and glanced back at her. "That _was_ the idea. I designed this house myself, you know."

Her eyebrows shot skyward. "Is there _anything_ you can't do?"

He smirked. "Admittedly, not much."

Serana rolled her eyes and smiled, arms crossing after a few seconds. "You're…not gonna tell me where it is, are you?"

Ketar shrugged. "Gotta keep _some_ secrets for myself."

She bowed her head slightly. "Fair enough."

"Lydia find you a room okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine down here. Sleep well, Ketar."

"You too."

…

Serana watched him go with a surprising blankness to her mind, her thoughts falling still for once. Her mind's eye, however, was not so inactive, and it kept flashing back to dinner, to his face. His voice sounded in her ears over and over again, eyes flashing with a fire and intensity she'd never seen before. A small shudder went through her next breath as she blinked the visions away.

"I hope you won't be tossing and turning all night."

Serana turned at the source of the voice. "What?"

Lydia came into the main hall from the room she'd just prepared. "Vampires _are_ nocturnal creatures after all."

She smiled a little. "Don't worry about it. I don't expect to be sleeping tonight anyway."

Lydia frowned. "Why's that?"

Serana shrugged. "I've been sleeping for the last thousand years. It's been a little over a week since I woke up, and I haven't felt the need to sleep once."

Her eyebrows hiked upward. "That's…unexpected."

Another shrug. "It's no big deal. I saw Ketar's library in the north tower. Pretty extensive. And, since I'm new to this time, every single one of them is new. I'll probably just…spend the time 'til morning reading all of them."

Lydia's lips pursed. "Well, whatever floats your longship. I, on the other hand, am in _desperate_ need of sleep." A smirk came to her lips as she moved her shoulders in circles. "Kind of wore myself out earlier."

Serana arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "We heard. Unfortunately for him."

" _Just_ for him?"

She gave Lydia a "really?" look. "I lived for centuries before going to sleep. You think there's anything I haven't witnessed?"

Lydia chuckled. "Fair enough." She made for the steps, getting a few up before stopping short to look back at Serana. "You know, there _is_ something you haven't witnessed."

She looked up at the other woman questioningly.

A smile came to the housecarl's face as she opened her mouth to speak.

All mirth dropped from Serana's when something in the edge of her hearing caught her attention, and she attuned her senses to it more finely.

 _"Loose!"_

Serana's unnatural eyes flew wide open in alarm as she screamed at the top of her lungs. " _Ketar_!"

A massive concussive wave tore through the upper half of the building as a deafening explosion split the night, sending Lydia flying end-over-end from the steps. Speeding up her perception, Serana braced herself against the ground, cloak flapping in the backwash of the explosion for a split-second before she leapt into action and caught Lydia before she hit the ground head-first. Serana turned midair to swipe a particularly jagged shard of wood away from them, springing off a wall to land on the second-floor walkway furthest from Ketar's bedroom. Her eyes went wide again.

 _Ketar!_

The explosion had destroyed much of that side's upper floor, including most of the master bedroom, which was engulfed in furious flames. Both women stared at it for a moment before the left-hand door to Windstad's enchanter's tower flew open, permitting a violently coughing but unharmed Ketar.

"Ketar!" Lydia and Serana shouted in tandem, exchanging a brief glance.

He coughed and tried to answer, but another explosion rocked the house and broke through the wall separating him from the flaming bedroom. A large plank of charred wood flew loose and slammed him in the gut, causing Lydia and Serana to lunge toward him across the left-hand walkway. Serana's inhuman hearing flared with the same voice again.

 _"Loose!"_

With a split-second glance between Lydia and Ketar, Serana saw the wall to their immediate right sprout a brand-new hole and tackled Lydia off the side before another explosion sent that wall crashing through their last position. Lydia tried to lunge for the stairs, but Serana caught her arm and yanked her back.

"What are you doing?!" Lydia yelled furiously. "We have to save him!"

"We won't do him any good if we're dead! And you're not even wearing armor!"

Lydia glanced down at herself, then gave Serana a defensive glare before sprinting into an adjacent room and returning only moments later arrayed in full steel armor with ornate Nordic cuffs on her bracers and boots and an unusual sword strapped to her hip. Serana looked her up and down for a second.

"How did you—but you were just—"

"Focus!" Lydia shouted, moving for the stairs as another explosion rocked the house and tore through the east-side first floor, where the kitchen was.

The incoming debris moved too fast for even Serana to dodge, and they were both catapulted toward the far wall of the manor. Serana did, however, manage to put her body between Lydia's and the wall, taking most of the impact and feeling something shift in her back for a moment before they slid to a halt in the snow. Groaning in pain, Serana gently pushed the armored woman off her and brushed herself off as they both regained their footing. Another explosion slammed the house from the opposite side a moment later, and they sprinted toward the entrance in an effort to reach Ketar when they caught a glimpse of golden-armored figures around the side.

They came to an abrupt stop, Lydia snarling in rage when she caught sight of a black-robed figure standing on a nearby hill leading the soldiers and commanding use of a ballista mounted further up, with strangely glowing heads on the ends of its missiles.

"Thalmor," she hissed between clenched teeth, hand going for her sword when she caught sight of Ketar clambering through burning rubble, still stuck on the second floor. Lydia looked around half in panic, then turned to her companion. "Serana, the entrance is impassible. Can you get up there?"

Serana was breathing hard, still feeling the pain in her back, when she shook her head. "Not with all those flames."

"Right. Vampire."

Lydia stared helplessly as Ketar leapt and rolled over another incoming projectile, his arm held up in front of his face as he visibly coughed.

"We need to stop that ballista!" Serana shouted as she drew her Elven dagger.

"He may not make it that long!" Lydia shouted in panic when another explosion sent him flying into what was left of his bed, a quick Destruction spell putting a cloak of pure cold around him and dousing the flames.

Suddenly, she caught sight of something else that had been sent flying from the house and sprinted toward it, Serana looking at her in confusion when she picked up Ketar's strange communication amulet. Finally getting a close look at it, she realized why it was so strange.

The semblance of the amulet's engraving was the visage of a nightingale.

Lydia straightened up and shouted at the top of her lungs. "Ketar!"

That caught the attention of both the Thalmor and her master, whose eyes flashed in the same intense fire as before the moment he saw the amulet. He coiled up and started sprinting for the hole in the side of his house as Lydia brought the arm with the amulet back, holding it like a discus and bracing herself for a throw.

"Loose!"

With a furious yell, she threw the amulet with everything she had at the space just outside the hole, Serana's vampire perception seeing it all unfold as if in a crawl. The ballista missile flew from its drawstring, heading straight for Ketar as he leapt from the manor in a long jump. His right hand's fingers closed around the amulet a split-second after his jump, instantly slamming it against his upper chest, in the space between his collarbones. The violet gem in its upper-center flared with light, his eyes doing the same for a brief instant before the amulet pulsed with energy and began releasing something that rapidly spread over his body like liquid darkness, like forged midnight.

Serana's jaw dropped as the ballista missile passed just between his legs, the resulting explosion pushing him further from the house and into an even longer jump that he turned into a fluid somersault. He landed not twenty feet from the Thalmor soldiers, palm and knee-first against the ground as the strange substance rapidly coalesced into midnight-black armor and fabric that stretched over his body like a second skin. A knee-length black cloak stretched from his armored shoulders, the armor itself encasing him in what looked like a mixture between flexible lamellar plates and interlocking armored feathers. Even from the side, Serana could see his downturned face twisted into a furious scowl as he reached back and pulled a metal-embroidered hood over his head. The amulet pulsed again as more of the strange substance flowed from it to his head, coalescing into a full face-mask with similar engravings and two small eyeslits.

A second later, Ketar's head snapped up toward his approaching attackers, left hand dipping to his side to pull something off his hip. With a flick of his thumb, two arms of a strangely-patterned bow extended from the hilt at its center like ebon wings. A quiver of black arrows formed between his back and cloak as he rose to his feet, two Thalmor soldiers meeting quick ends when corresponding arrows speared straight through their armor, leaving them twitching and smoking as if from frostbite.

Serana made to join him in the fighting, but Lydia caught her arm. "Didn't you _just_ say we need to save him?" she asked, irritated.

Lydia's jaw tightened. "And we will. By taking out that ballista crew. Now come on!"

Serana followed reluctantly, stealing a glance at Ketar as they sprinted up the snow-covered hill. Her jaw dropped and eyes nearly came out of their sockets when she saw him. Here, now, at this time of the night and under these circumstances, it was like watching a living shadow. He flowed in and out of his attackers like water around rocks, dodging their sword-swipes and retaliating with strikes from his bow or manually delivered ebony arrows that found their way into various gaps in the Elves' armor. Shifting her attention back to the task at hand, Serana ran past Lydia and used a nearby boulder as a springboard to leap twenty feet off the ground, drawing the attention of the crew away from Ketar.

She smirked. _Perfect_.

Her dagger cleared its sheath just in time to sink hilt-deep into the armpit of one of the engineers, coming out to slash his throat a split-second later. By now, the others were already drawing weapons and advancing on her, but they were briefly stopped in their tracks when an animalistic battle cry arose from the direction of the house, and they began staring at a furiously snarling Lydia. Just the sight of her managed to make them flinch long enough for Serana to split the throat of another. When they recovered, most turned on Serana, but one of them prepared a frost spell in his off-hand and opened up on Lydia once she got within range. The Nord woman's left hand pulled something small and round off her belt by a handle attached to its underside, and within the space of a second, it expanded into a large, white-gold Dwemer shield the likes of which Serana had never seen.

Lydia immediately fell into a crouch as the spell sprayed into her aegis, its effects rapidly dissipating as some sort of magical barrier emitted from the circular device in its center and three focusing apertures below, arrayed in a line running down the middle. Serana's eyebrows hiked upward in surprise, but she was quickly forced to focus as a lightning-fast sword swipe almost took her armed hand off. Two blows were deflected and countered with shallow stabs to their respective owners, Serana flipping the knife underhandedly and falling into a crouching spin to sever their hamstrings. She hand-sprung away from the crowd, grabbing one of their spare daggers on the way up and facing off with them while dual-wielding both weapons underhandedly.

A sharp _shing_ was heard from the side as Lydia advanced and drew her sword, an ice-blue glass blade that radiated cold steam, even in that weather. The spellcaster who'd tried to keep her pinned down tried to backpedal in terror, but Lydia rushed forward and cut him down before he got far, the blade cleaving straight through his golden armor and causing the blood in his veins to freeze on contact. She took up her place next to Serana, sword and shield held at the ready as they exchanged a glance, then rushed forward into battle.

…

 _Twang!_

Another midnight-black arrow found its mark as Ketar loosed it at point-blank range, one arm of his bow turning to slam an incoming soldier in his exposed neck. An ebony arrow snapped from his quiver as he parried a sword blow with his bow and ducked under another, underhandedly stabbing the tip of the arrow into the instep of his first attacker and spinning with his bow to trip the second. He twirled the arrow in his hand as he brought it down into the Elf's throat, then yanked it loose and finished off the reeling one with a shot to the chest. A loud whoosh of air caught Ketar's attention, and he quickly backpedaled as an Elven mace swung at him hard, separating him from his bow.

Two more swings were dodged before his left hand dipped to its corresponding hip and underhandedly yanked an ebony dagger from its sheath as he simultaneously lunged forward and leaned into the next swing. The screech of metal on metal split the crackling night air as the mace's shaft slid against his knife, his shoulder slamming the soldier in the solar plexus and winding him as Ketar used his newfound leverage to flip him over his shoulder. The Elf blocked his dagger's next stab, but Ketar used the opportunity to angle his weapon away, then pull the last arrow from his back and thrust it into his carotid artery. The Dragonborn rose to his full height as eight of his enemies lay dead or dying around him, staining the pristine white snow with their draining life. He turned toward the robed Thalmor leader with a scowl hiding behind his mask, right hand going to the hip on the same side and pulling another, larger hilt from a mounting that curled back into the armor once empty.

Once his grasp around the hilt solidified, another pulse came from its top, a circular finger-guard engraved with a smaller-scale version of the amulet currently sitting as the centerpiece of his armor. A second after the pulse, a dark gray blade sprang from the engraved finger-guard, tapering off to a flared point three feet from the hilt. With the ebony dagger in his left hand and the Nightingale Blade in his right, a low, threatening laugh came from his throat, his mask distorting the sound to make it even more menacing. So much so, in fact, that the remaining Thalmor soldiers twitched in their armor, only their leader seeming unaffected. And he was wearing this irritatingly calm (and smug) smile behind his hood.

Ketar resolved to shatter that calm.

With a glance toward the upper hill and the absolute _hurricane_ that was Serana and Lydia, Ketar looked back toward his assailants and stepped backward into the shadows, all but fading from existence moments later as the Shadowcloak of Nocturnal wrapped him in its embrace.

…

For Serana, seeing Ketar suddenly vanish into the shadows wasn't surprising, given his talent for magic. No, what shocked her was what happened _after_ he vanished. Namely, that the very air around the Thalmor soldiers facing him began shifting and morphing with flickers of pure darkness. A swordsman who stepped too close to the shadows found his throat split open by the sudden swing of an ebony dagger, and two more who rushed forward to his aid stopped short when they saw two tendrils of shadow cut through the air in front of them. They cried out in alarm and pain when the tendrils coalesced into Ketar's armored form, with his sword driven halfway into one's chest and his dagger into the other up to the hilt, cutting straight through his spine.

The moment he yanked both weapons loose, he faded back into the shadows with a flicker of dark tendrils. The robed leader motioned toward the rest of his soldiers, and the remaining three advanced with some trepidation, one with a shield taking the lead and managing to deflect his first strike on instinct when his sword materialized out of nowhere. Ketar pivoted and spun clockwise with another sword strike that drove the shield partway to one side, then flipping his dagger to an overhand hold and driving it into the Elf's wrist. He howled in pain as he dropped the shield, his two comrades moving in and attacking from opposite sides. The ebony dagger went underhanded once more, stopping one sword in its tracks as he ducked under the other and used his own sword to keep it moving.

The soldier's golden blade skidded off his comrade's armor, but the moment of shock opened him up to a rising sword-thrust from Ketar that drove up through his gut and perforated his internal organs. Enraged, the other Thalmor tried to cleave him in half with a falling vertical slash, but Ketar crouched and spun to his left, rising to his feet as the blade just missed him and taking his head off with a single spinning sword strike. The severed head and its corresponding body hit the ground together a moment later as Ketar once again faded into the shadows, the head rolling toward the single remaining Thalmor until he stopped it with his boot.

A sharp cry to Serana's right drew her attention as Lydia's boot pushed a skewered Thalmor soldier off her enchanted sword, her Spellbreaker aegis quickly coming up to deflect two ice spikes that were thrown her way. Serana lunged toward one of the three remaining soldiers who were advancing on Lydia, her dagger deflecting his reflexive and empty hand snapping his head to the side with a strong punch. A cry proceeded from her throat as one of the soldiers nailed her in the back with an arrow, her orange eyes flaring with fury as the soldier in front of her took another swing at her. With a snarl of rage, Serana ducked the strike, then yanked the bloodied arrow from her back and drove it into his gut. Her empty hand came up and yanked his head to one side, leaving his neck exposed and vulnerable to a savage sinking of her fangs into his flesh.

Serana spun rapidly, her teeth and grip dragging the dying soldier along and making him into a living shield for another incoming arrow as his remaining blood steadily drained into her. The sanguine flow immediately sent a powerful rush through her undead body, the wound in her back tingling with an unnatural pleasure as it rapidly sealed shut. When her teeth left the dead soldier, a disgusted grimace threatened to take over her features, but she managed to keep her focus long enough to swipe another arrow out of the air barehanded. Holding the missile underhandedly, Serana snapped her arm toward the soldier and released at the perfect moment to launch it into his lower chest.

He sputtered and gasped for air as he stumbled backward, eyes widening in horror as Serana advanced on him with bloodied lips and bared fangs. He held up his bow in a last desperate defense, but she just ripped it from his grasp and underhandedly plunged her dagger straight through his heart, with a high-pitched metallic screech signifying the rending of his armor. She tore it loose as another furious yell came from behind, and Serana watched in fascination as Lydia practically danced around the last soldier, who by all indications was holding his own quite well. Two sword-strikes were exchanged, the Thalmor wing-blocking a horizontal strike and bringing a longsword down on her shield. His added reach was giving him just enough of an advantage to make their fight roughly equal—or so he thought.

A low feint got Lydia to crouch and brace for a lower strike for just a moment, while the Elf instead leapt for her in an overhead stab, going one-handed to fully extend his reach. Her head ducked out of the way of his blade just in time for it to miss her neck, and her back foot lunged forward and up to bring her shield into his suspended legs. He was summarily flipped over her shoulder and dumped on the ground face-first, Lydia spinning on her heel and planting a boot on his back before underhandedly plunging Chillrend through his back. The Thalmor's complete and extended exposure to the sword's enchantment sent an unstoppable wave of cold throughout his body, effectively freezing him so solid that when she yanked the blade loose, his body and armor shattered into a thousand pieces.

Arching an eyebrow at the display, Serana snapped her attention sideways when a sharp cry from below brought her attention back to Ketar, one hand going across her mouth to wipe her lips clean. At present, he and the Thalmor leader were circling each other, the latter preparing a lightning spell in one hand while he held what looked like an Elven sabre in the other.

"I'd ask how you found me," Ketar said in a grating voice, made so by his mask, "but I already know. Your tail was sloppy, obvious."

The Thalmor smiled malevolently. "Then explain how we were able to ambush you here."

"Oh, I was already en route to sneak around and nail you with a special scroll I'd been preparing. I didn't expect you to bring a Dwarven ballista, though I supposed I ought to have, considering your faction's general lack of subtlety." Ketar kept pacing, lazily twirling his sword in an endless circle. "I will say, you've come closer than most to offing me, but you signed your own death warrant when you forced me to wear what I do now." The sword came to an abrupt stop as he bent down slightly, tensing up for a lunge in any direction. "I'd kill you out of principle any day, but now that you know what I am…you _have_ to die." His grip tightened around the sword. "No one can know my secret."

The Thalmor snarled and fired off his spell, Ketar pivoting to the right and using his left hand to summon a ward that deflected the bolt into a rock somewhere behind him. In the same movement as his pivot, he kept spinning, charging another spell in his left hand and firing it off at the precise moment the Thalmor let his second lightning bolt fly. The two spells clashed in a blinding flash of explosive light, actually causing the Elf to cringe and draw back slightly. Ketar, on the other hand, seemed to have been expecting this, because the moment he shot his spell off, he started running, resulting in a flying stab that the Thalmor leader just managed to swipe away.

Ketar didn't let up for a second.

Watching his movements, the way he flowed from one action to the next, especially in that armor, was downright mesmerizing to Serana, so much so that she ceased to see a man or armor, and saw only a living shadow. It was like nothing she'd ever witnessed, not even from him. Ketar was good, _really_ good, but this…this was something else. Something inhuman and grimly beautiful. The Thalmor tried to save himself with a wide fire spell that blanketed the ground in front of him in a wall of fire, but Ketar just sprinted for the wall and leapt six feet straight upward, easily clearing the flames, much to the Elf's terror. He landed on the Thalmor feet-first, tackling him to the ground and knocking his sabre from his grip. His sword-tip was leveled at the Altmer's throat a moment later, his mask staring down the Thalmor menacingly.

"Now," Ketar growled, "before I deal with you, I have just one _burning_ question." He brought his masked face even closer. "Who put you on my trail?"

The Elf, to his credit, glared up at him in defiance. "I…would rather die."

And die he did, as he grabbed Ketar's armed elbow and thrust the blade down into his own neck. By the sudden start to his body, Ketar hadn't been expecting that, and sighed before pulling his sword loose. Glancing at the blade itself, Serana couldn't help but notice that the Elven blood seemed to melt off it, the metal never carrying enough contamination long enough to tarnish.

And then he turned to her.

Ketar stared at her with that faceless mask, eyes seeming like endless black pools in the shadows cast by his hood and mask. Serana's breath caught as he started moving toward her and Lydia, a small sigh of relief leaving her when the sword collapsed into itself and he replaced the hilt on his hip. Ketar strode over to stand next to the other two, looking back toward the burning Windstad Manor and pulling back his midnight-black hood. The mask receded into his amulet, revealing an intensely annoyed expression on his face.

"Unbelievable," he drawled. "All those endless weeks of work…" His head shook slowly, a heavy sigh passing his lips before he squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. " _Fo-Krah-Diin_!"

A massive, sustained blast of cold proceeded from his lips, dousing the house and quenching the flames wherever it touched. What was left afterward was a slightly frostbitten, nearly destroyed domain with far too many holes to be called a shelter.

"Well…at least I don't have to burn my sheets."

Both women turned to face him and broke out in relieved laughter, Ketar grinning alongside them as he shook his head at the carnage.

"Okay," said Lydia through her chuckles, "so the bad news is, any obscenely comfortable beds are out."

Serana glanced over at her. "And the good news?"

"The towers are still intact," answered Ketar. "There's a cot in the library that should serve."

"And the room where I was going to put you," Lydia added with a nod at Serana.

Serana looked at the both of them incredulously. "Are we seriously going to leave all these bodies out here?"

Ketar absently glanced back at the dead Elves and shrugged. "In this cold, it's not like they're going to smell. We'll deal with them in the morning. Or we'll get lucky and the local wildlife will have dealt with them by the time we wake."

Lydia placed both hands on her hips, facing him. "And with all those gaping holes in the house, what's to say the wildlife doesn't deal with _us_?"

"I am," Serana said. "Lydia, you can take the room you set up for me."

"I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can." She turned to Ketar. "You take the library."

Ketar gave her an affronted look. "Serana, you're my guest. I'm not going to leave you out in—"

"In what? The cold?" Serana smiled. "I appreciate your concern, but seeing as how we're _dead_ ,vampires are largely immune to the cold. And besides, like I told her," she nodded at Lydia, "I don't expect to sleep tonight."

Ketar turned to Lydia questioningly.

She just shrugged. "Don't look at me. She said something about being asleep for a thousand years or somesuch. Apparently she hasn't slept all week."

His eyebrows hiked upward for a moment before he sighed and shrugged. "Whatever. I'm too tired to deal with this crap." He waved a hand at Serana as he strode toward what was left of the house. "Serana, you're welcome to kick me out of my bed if you feel tired. Or Lydia. _Especially_ Lydia."

"Hey!"

Serana chuckled. "Understood. Thank you."

Ketar looked back at her with a piercing gaze, his eyes flickering fearfully over to Lydia. "Thank _you_."

Her eyes widened for a moment in realization before she smiled and nodded in understanding. Lydia just gave her a smile and pat on the shoulder before heading inside. Serana watched them go just long enough to see Ketar pry the amulet from his chest, the strange armor receding into it the same way it had emerged. Shuddering with the memories of what she'd just witnessed, Serana turned back to the remains of the outright _battle_ that had just been fought on the grounds of Ketar's estate and slowly shook her head.

 _Closer to adolescence than adulthood, eh?_ she thought with grim humor. _Isn't it just like a kid to leave his toys out after he's done with them?_

With one last shake of her head, Serana strode toward the grisly remains of the attacking force and spent the rest of her night cleaning up the mess.

* * *

AN: All right, so you guys are getting to see some more of my changes to the game in this chapter too. Namely, the Nightingale armor and weapons. When you first get the armor, i.e. from the "armor stone," it just shows up in your inventory, which seems kind of unrealistic—unless it's activated by use of a particular magical item. And since each armor is practically a Daedric artifact in itself, it stands to reason that they would have special properties, especially when they were made by the Prince of darkness and mystery. Having an armor cloaked as something more benign just logically follows. The fact that I also attached the corresponding weapons to it, then, should not come as a surprise.

Apart from that, not much else to say about this chapter except that it took me what feels like forever to finish. Hope you enjoyed it.

 _Oya vode._

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

The Shannara Chronicles - Gun Shootout: "Loose!"/burning house/throwing the Embrace  
Dracula Untold - Vlad vs. 1000: Ketar lands/living shadow/Serana and Lydia tackle the ballista/arrow to the carotid  
The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - Welcome, Imlerith: Shadowcloak of Nocturnal/Serana and Lydia finish the ballista crew/duel with the Thalmor commander/unexpected suicide


	6. Bolstering the Ranks

The morning after the Battle of Windstad Manor, which was what Ketar was mentally and quite melodramatically calling it, started in much the way he'd have expected. He got up, finding Lydia already awake, as per usual, as per her obsessive compulsive tendencies, and stole some of the morning gruel before it was even done, which garnered the expected irate response. Reacting to her reaction was always his first laugh of the day when she was around. On this particular morning, however, with the cold biting his leather-clad body through the blatant evidence of last night's battle, he looked outside expecting something and seeing something else quite different.

Namely, there were still various scorch-marks and upturned terrain strewn about the eastern hill approach to Windstad, but what the terrain lacked was the most notable factor of the previous night's fight: all the corpses. Grabbing a bowl of Lydia's latest concoction and pulling his hood around his features, he stepped out the barely-intact front door and looked around curiously, eventually stopping short and staring at the hooded form of Serana, who was busy sorting what looked like several large vials of some dark substance in a satchel. She stopped short when his boots crunched against the newfallen snow, looking up at him and smiling with a small wave.

He just stared back at her questioningly.

Serana shrugged. "I had a lot of time on my hands last night. I also dismantled the ballista and stored the parts in your shed over there." She jerked a thumb at the edifice in question before using that hand to draw her dagger and begin sharpening it.

Ketar stared at her, then at the landscape, and back again before shrugging with an absent hum and heading back toward the house. "You should come inside. Lydia made breakfast."

Serana chuckled. "Thanks, but I think I got all the meal I needed."

He stopped short and looked back at her, then at her satchel. "Oh."

"Yeah," she confirmed. "Best to have some on hand, just in case."

"Right," he said with a nod, turning back toward the house and resuming his walk with a small shake of his head.

He sidled up to Lydia a while later, sitting at what was left of their table and eating quietly, lost in thought. A set of nearly silent footfalls came through the front door a minute or two later, a chair opposite Ketar becoming occupied moments later. Lydia glanced between their two silent forms curiously, eventually shaking her head and returning her attention to her cooking. Ketar noticed this and frowned, looking around the ruined manor with a critical eye. Suddenly, he spotted something that had been knocked loose the previous night and stood abruptly, marching his way over to it. The sudden movement caught Serana's eye, and she watched him curiously as he picked up the large black talon that had been mounted above the fireplace, his eyes drifting over it critically for a while.

His jaw tightened briefly, and then his hands extended away from his body, the talon levitating vertically as he summoned his rift and enclosed it in Akatosh's dimension. He looked back at her a moment later.

"We should leave as soon as you're ready. There's no telling what's been going on in our absence, and I have to make a stop in Whiterun before we head back."

Serana nodded and stood. "I'm ready to go."

Ketar's lips pursed with a nod. "I'll be right back."

…

Serana watched him go into the back room that led to the library, frowning as he shut the door behind him.

"Not hungry?"

Serana turned at the question and shook her head. "Had my fill last night."

Lydia nodded knowingly and prepared a bowl of her own food. They sat quietly for a while before she spoke up again. "Serana…something you need to know."

"Okay?"

Lydia stared down into her bowl for a while, then looked up at her with an intense gaze. "Ketar…Ketar doesn't trust easily. Allowing someone to watch his back is all good and well, but with very few exceptions, he still watches his own despite them, or maybe _because_ of them." She sighed. "I suppose what I'm saying is, you must be special to have earned that so quickly after meeting him."

Serana frowned in confusion. "You mean…I thought he was like this with _everyone_."

Lydia's eyebrows shot skyward. "Oh, really? If that's the impression he's been giving around you, then you must be _really_ special, because his usual demeanor can be…shall we say, often less than friendly."

"You mean like last night?"

She shrugged. "Maybe not quite as hostile, but yeah. His life, the last two years especially, has not been easy, and he's had his trust betrayed far too many times for one his age." She cocked her head slightly. "And yet…I've never seen him look at anyone the way he has at you. The way he moves around you, the way he connects with you, the banter you share." She smirked. "Hell, even the arguments, what little I've witnessed. He doesn't usually bother to apologize if he thinks he's gone too far because with few exceptions, the opinion of other people just doesn't matter to him."

Serana's eyebrows furrowed. "So, what are you saying?"

Lydia sighed. "I'm saying that…whether he knows it yet or not, and I guarantee he doesn't, that boy is absolutely smitten with you." She shrugged. "I'm just calling it now. And lest you forget because of his skills or power, he _is_ little more than a boy. Scarred and jaded and forced to grow up far too fast, but still a boy. He still has hurts and hopes and insecurities."

Serana frowned. "Lydia, why are you telling me all this? I mean, you hardly even know me; it's like you said, I'm practically a complete stranger."

"And yet he's deemed you worthy of enough trust to sleep around you, which is a _big deal_." Lydia gave her a stern look. "I'm telling you this because his usual way of doing things is unhealthy, and you bring something out in him that I've ached to see for a _long_ time. But—" her eyes hardened and occupied hand tightened around her fork as she pointed it in Serana's direction, "—if I find out that you have any intention of betraying that boy's trust, if your intentions are anything less than honorable—"

Serana stopped her with a hand. "I think I get the point."

Lydia nodded. "Good."

Serana's head cocked a bit. "Wait…did you seriously just give me the 'don't hurt my kid' talk?" Her arms crossed in affront. "What are you, his mother?"

Lydia's gaze turned toward the back room wistfully. "He will certainly never admit it, but…" she looked down sadly, "I'm probably the closest thing he'll ever have."

"…oh."

"Yes. Oh. So, please, Serana." Lydia looked up at her pleadingly. "Treat him well. He needs someone who understands him, who can be there for him in ways I never will."

Serana's eyes widened. "Lydia, I—"

"I'm not asking you to propose to him," she said with a sarcastic grin. "I'm asking you to be a friend to him, something he's been sorely lacking in of late, and mostly by choice at that."

She shrugged. "If he'll let me, I don't think that'll be a problem. When we first met, I said I'd expected another vampire to be the one who woke me up." She looked toward the back room with a smile twitching at her lips. "I'm glad it wasn't."

Lydia stared at her for a while before nodding with a small grunt. A smile eventually came to her face. "You know, what I was saying last night, about what you hadn't seen yet?"

Serana looked at her curiously.

Her smile widened. "You've never seen him truly cut loose."

Serana's eyes went wide. "Really? Because, last night—"

"Trust me, last night was nothing." Lydia snorted. "To be honest, I'm not even sure _I've_ ever seen him cut all the way loose. When that happens…" her head shook slowly, "it's going to be something terrifyingly beautiful."

They both fell silent after that. Serana eventually turned back to stare at the fireplace instead, lost in thought for a while before the back room's door flew open.

"All right, ready to go."

The women turned toward him.

"I have my people looking for that last Elder Scroll. In the meantime, we'll be helping the Dawnguard build their ranks. And that Sorine…she mentioned new crossbow designs she'd been looking for." He shrugged. "I'm not a _huge_ fan of the weapon, but it certainly has its uses, and if I can help the others get better weapons, so much the better." Ketar turned toward Lydia. "You don't have to stay here. I already told Brynjolf to send some people to repair the damage, and I've sent for Tolfdir to assign some of his apprentices to put up warning spells around the grounds so we're not surprised like that again."

Lydia nodded and frowned. "What about the Thalmor?"

"Well, none of the soldiers from last night survived, so there's a chance they'll still be coming for me, but it should be safe to go back to Breezehome now. They wouldn't dare try anything in the middle of a city. If anything, I'll just have to worry about them running into me out on the open road."

"That's not comforting."

"Hey, at least I won't be alone." He smirked and winked at Serana over Lydia's shoulder. "Now, we'd best be off. We have a long day ahead of us."

Lydia nodded and handed him a familiar satchel of provisions, then turned to Serana with a firm gaze. "Remember what I told you."

Serana nodded and followed a confused Ketar out the door.

"…what are you two plotting?" he eventually asked as they approached the stables.

She smirked. "Oh, nothing—" she threw a grin his way, "—much. You know us women." A shrug. "Could be anything."

Ketar just gave her a deadpan expression and rolled his eyes as he saddled Stormbreaker and climbed up on his back. "Fine. Don't tell me. I might just kick Stormbreaker into a gallop and make you _run_ to keep up."

Serana snorted a laugh. "Like I couldn't."

He huffed and rolled his eyes again. "Just get on the damn horse."

…

They rode in silence for several hours before Serana's eyes drifted to the pouch on the back of his belt. A frown creased her lips as her mind's eye flickered with the vision of Ketar in that faceless mask.

"I can feel you staring."

Serana blinked. "Sorry. I'm just…what was that, last night? That amulet, I mean. I've never seen anything like it."

His head shook slowly. "Nor will you." He frowned and looked back at her. "Listen…what you saw last night, you can't tell _anyone_ about that. Ever."

She shrugged. "Who am I gonna tell? I've been away for a thousand years. I don't exactly have friends." She frowned. "Well… _other_ friends."

She just managed to catch an upward twitch of his lips. "The amulet…it was a gift, from the Daedric Prince Nocturnal. It's a powerful magical artifact, one of three, and it represents my status as a Nightingale, one of Nocturnal's representatives on Nirn. I call it 'Nocturnal's Embrace.'"

"Because when you activate it, it literally—"

"Embraces me with darkness, yes. The armor gives me access to…abilities that would otherwise be impossible, and allows me to store certain weapons within its fabric."

"Yeah, I noticed. It was a little frightening, to be honest."

Ketar smirked. "You, a big bad pureblood vampire, afraid of little old me? I'm flattered."

Serana smiled and shook her head slowly. "I said _it_ was frightening, not that you were."

"Well, considering _it_ was actually just _me_ …"

"Point taken. But still. Out of that armor, I don't find you particularly frightening."

"Good."

Serana blinked in mild surprise, but opted to stay silent instead of questioning him. Her hands gently tightened around his hips, keeping her steady as they hit some rougher terrain, and she wondered at what Lydia had told her. No matter how she thought about it, one thought kept on coming back to her.

"What's the deal with you and Jorrvaskr? What I mean is, all the 'ladies' who've apparently been throwing themselves at you—why haven't you taken them up on it?"

Ketar frowned. "Because that's not the kind of person I am. And…" he frowned deeper, brows furrowed, "because for some reason, I don't feel anything for them. I can't."

She arched an eyebrow. "Do you need to?"

He looked back at her in affront. "I don't know what kind of person you think I am in my private life, but my reaction last night should be _more_ than enough of an indication that I don't approve of shallow—"

"I'm just saying. Most men I've known need and want only one thing from a woman."

"Well I'm not—"

"I said _most_ , Ketar," she interrupted in a smooth, soothing tone.

"…oh."

They both fell silent after that, Serana feeling like she hit a raw nerve. They were quiet all the way to Whiterun.

…

Ketar hated to leave Serana behind, but going up to the Skyforge was something she didn't really need to do. Besides, she wanted to know the deal with Jorrvaskr? She could experience it firsthand. His mind turned back to the task at hand as he laid out the broken, scorched shards of his sword in front of Eorlund Gray-Mane. He looked them over grimly before shaking his head.

"Ruined."

Ketar's eyebrows rose. "Ruined?"

"Ruined," he confirmed with a nod of his head. "I'll have to make you a brand new sword. Luckily, I suspected you might break this one, so I've had another in the works for quite a while."

"Really?"

The older man smirked. "You're the Dragonborn, Ketar. I'm surprised you don't break more on a regular basis."

Ketar stared back at him with a peeved expression, then shrugged in concession. "Fair enough. So how long will it take to get the new sword?"

"Hm, perhaps I misled you earlier." He reached under one of the anvils to a pile of linen wrappings and pulled something from one of them. "I finished it _months_ ago."

Ketar's jaw dropped as he gently took the sword from Eorlund sheath-first. His right hand closed around the hilt, and with one swift, fluid movement, he drew it from its sheath with a satisfying metallic _shing_. Holding it upright, he marveled at the craftsmanship of the blade. Sitting in his hand was a roughly 42-inch ebony longsword with a straight blade and an upward-curving cross-guard. He gave it a few experimental swings, the difference in weight throwing him off slightly but his body adjusting to it quickly as he started flowing from one move into the next in an intricate pattern of stabs, shunts, swings, and flourishes. He ended with a spin behind his back transitioning into an upward slash that cut the air with an audible slice.

Huffing a laugh, Ketar slid it back into its sheath and strapped it to his back as he turned back to Eorlund. "This is _incredible_. How much do I owe you?"

Eorlund just smiled and waved him off. "Not a thing, dear boy."

Ketar just gave him a look.

The older man sighed. "Fine, fine. If you insist."

"I do." He dropped a heavy pouch of coins into the smith's hands. "Thank you, old friend."

Eorlund put a hand on his shoulder. "You are a Companion, Ketar. You are _always_ welcome in my forge." He drew closer and lowered his voice. "And if you ever need my help to shape that… _other_ item—"

"I'll know who to come to," Ketar interrupted tensely. "But I'm not ready for that yet."

He nodded. "I understand. When you are, I'll be here."

Ketar gave him a nod and salute as he made his way down from the Skyforge and toward the mead hall of the Companions. Jorrvaskr was, as usual, in the middle of a party. Its central fireplace was lit up high, various sconces around the place flickering with light, and the Companions, those who were present, were dancing and carousing in their usual boisterous manner. It never failed to bring a smile to his face, the way they so freely expressed their affectionate companionship for each other, but his smile quickly faded as he got this uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

It was like…like something had crawled in there and was worming around, scratching at his insides, and his heart in particular. It was unfamiliar, _extremely_ irritating, and borderline painful; and it only got worse the longer he stared at the way Torvar was drunkenly attempting to flirt with Serana. Serana, who was giggling uncontrollably, was drinking along with him, but unlike him, seemed perfectly steady on her feet, and more than aware enough to avoid his grabby hands. Ketar's own hands uncontrollably began to itch and twitch in strangling motions, and he was unaware that a similar effect was happening to his face when he felt a presence at his side.

"Friend of yours?"

Ketar glanced toward the speaker. "Something like that."

A large Nord man crossed his arms and smirked. "I know that look. I just don't think I've ever seen it on you before."

He gave the taller man a narrow-eyed look. "Vilkas—"

"Just saying," he said with his hands up in surrender, "you should probably pull Torvar back toward the bar and away from your 'friend' if you don't want this to escalate." He frowned a little. "Based on the look of her eyes, I doubt she'd take too kindly to his advances."

Ketar heard the unspoken threat in the words and tightened his hands into fists in response. "Back off, Vilkas. She's not like that."

He gave Ketar a skeptical look.

"She's _not_. You think I'd have brought her here, or _anywhere_ if I thought otherwise? Come on, brother, you know me."

Vilkas sighed. "Yes, I suppose I do." He smirked. "It's a pity Torvar isn't smart enough to understand the signs we do."

"I'm tempted to let this play out just to see him get his," Ketar admitted, "but sadly, she and I have work to do, and we can't afford to be waylaid by the city guard, or a brawl." He grinned. "No matter how fun that may sound."

Vilkas grinned right with him, tapping his shoulder and nodding to a far corner of the room. "She's been eyeing you since you entered the hall."

Ketar sighed knowingly without looking. "I know."

"When are you going to wise up and get yourself a girlfriend?" Vilkas' eyes widened and turned toward Serana. "Or have you already?"

Ketar groaned loudly. "Shut it, Vilkas. I swear, you're worse than Lydia."

"Well, you can't blame me for being worried. The last couple of months, you've practically been a ghost. Not coming around the hall, shirking duties from the Jarl, isolating yourself in that house. You didn't always use to be so reclusive, brother."

"I know," he replied in mild exasperation. "I just…I've had a lot on my mind since…you know. And what happened after didn't exactly help."

"Well, it helped the rest of us breathe a little easier, at least."

"Yeah, and I'm happy about that, but…" he sighed, "look, the whole experience—it left a bad taste in my mouth, okay? I just…needed some time to myself, to…cope. To recover."

Vilkas frowned deeply. "I can't even imagine what you've been through."

Ketar slowly shook his head. "It's impossible to describe, to fully convey without…without you actually having been there. Can you imagine the _worst_ kind of deconstruction? An enemy who, for all intents and purposes, is your superior in _every_ way? Being so utterly overpowered that…really, your true enemy is despair? Because you're convinced, in the end, you have no choice over whether you live or die."

The Nord paled significantly. "…I imagine I'd have felt something similar when I was younger, if I'd been old enough to remember almost dying to those necromancers."

Ketar let out a slow, shuddering breath. "Think that, except worse…because he's that powerful, and _I'm_ the one who's supposed to beat him." He chuckled bitterly. "It's funny. People are always making cracks about my age, but facing that, facing _him_ …that has to be the first time I've actually _felt_ my age."

Vilkas gripped his shoulder firmly. "Your brothers are here for you, Ketar."

He managed a smile and patted his hand briefly. "I know. Thank you."

 _Crash!_

Ketar and Vilkas winced as Torvar unceremoniously crashed into a pile of barrels, his drunken, half-unconscious form blindly flailing about for some way to pull himself upright. Serana, meanwhile, was making her way over to Ketar and barely restraining laughter, if the way she was biting her lower lip was any indication. A single fang was sticking out just slightly beyond the confines of her lower lip, and Ketar couldn't stop himself from staring at her blankly, the irritated feeling in his stomach turning to hard, mildly uncomfortable kicks against the inside of his rib cage. He coughed and shook his head slightly to clear it out as she sidled up to him.

"What did you do to poor Torvar?" Vilkas asked her.

Serana gave him a purely innocent look. "Who, me? I assure you, I didn't do anything."

"Uh huh," the Nord drawled in disbelief.

"Honest," she insisted. "After all," smirk, "past a certain point, it's not difficult to make a drunk man trip. All you have to do is point and say 'walk.'"

Vilkas' face lit up in a genuine grin as he turned to Ketar. "You were right. I like this one already."

Ketar just rolled his eyes and let out a small groan. "Would you people stop giving her compliments?"

"And why's that?" Serana asked with a cheeky smile. "Jealous?"

He gave her a deadpan look. "More like trying to keep your head within a reasonable size."

"Hey!"

"Anyway, we have what we came for. Let's go."

"Hold on a moment," Vilkas interrupted. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Ketar sighed. "Right." He motioned to each of them with his hands. "Serana, Vilkas. Vilkas, Serana. Hello, goodbye." He grabbed her arm and starting half-dragging her toward the exit, much to Vilkas' amusement.

"It was lovely to meet you!" she called.

"The feeling is mutual!" Vilkas shouted back, grinning at Ketar's glare.

…

It took half the distance to Dayspring Canyon before Serana was able to string two coherent sentences together without breaking out into laughter. When she did, she had the good sense to change topics, which was great because Ketar was still stewing about the Jorrvaskr incident.

"So…this may strike you as a bit of a personal question, and please, stop me if I overstep my bounds, but…what was your childhood like?"

Ketar blinked in surprise, glancing back to see her looking at him intently. He suddenly felt uncomfortable under her gaze, and turned back forward before it could show.

"I mean…you said you didn't mind not knowing your parents, so it couldn't have been that bad."

He frowned. "I said I came to terms with not knowing my parents, not that I didn't mind."

"Oh."

A sigh. "The…monks of Cloud Ruler Temple were…the _best_. Though at first, I have to admit I resented them. They weren't my blood, they had no intrinsic reason to take care of me, so to an extent—well, the extent possible for a toddler—I mistrusted them. By the time I was old enough to reason for myself, yes, I wanted to know my parents, but I no longer restrained my affection toward my protectors." He smiled widely. "And they were so much more than that. They were my family for the first eighteen years of my life. I remember this one time, where Katja tried to use my favorite practice sword to test the blunt strength of her helmet." A laugh bubbled from his throat. "She ended up shattering it.

"The others were so scared." Another laugh. "When I just stood there staring in shock, they were terrified I was gonna cry, but when I saw how it just… _exploded_ , I broke out cackling." His eyes threatened to mist over as he wiped a hand across them. "Those…those were the days." He sighed hard and fell quiet for a while.

"It sounds like you were a lot more carefree back then."

"Most are when they're younger," he replied softly. "They don't have the ability to understand just how ugly is the world they live in. The monks…they protected me from all that, for as long as they could. To this day, I appreciate that blissful period of ignorance."

"I bet it made it that much harder to be thrown into the real world."

"Well, I had a few brushes with it before we fled Cloud Ruler Temple. When I was sixteen, they started bringing me along on trips to neighboring settlements and occasionally, the most prized trip of all: Imperial City." He sighed wistfully. "That was the first time I ever got into a real fight. Chasing down a pickpocket, of all things." He smiled. "Niel was so proud of me."

Serana frowned in thought. "Wait. Niel, as in—"

"As in my middle name, yes. My three names were not all given to me at birth, only my first. An archaic Breton derivative meaning something along the lines of 'lone-star' or some such."

"What about the other two?"

"Dov was the last name given to me by the monks. I wasn't sure why until I came to Skyrim."

"They somehow knew you were Dragonborn."

He nodded.

"And Niel?"

Ketar's expression flickered with pain. "About two weeks after I was forced to flee Cloud Ruler Temple, we were traveling together when we were ambushed by the Thalmor. We were _vastly_ outnumbered, and Niel…Niel told me to run. I didn't, so he clubbed me over the head and set me on his horse. The beast carried me away from the fighting, and that was the last I saw of my oldest friend…my mentor."

"So…he could still be alive?"

His tone turned dark. "No. He's dead."

"How do you—"

"Because the Thalmor told me. Not by voice, by their writing." He sighed hard. "We were already near the border of Skyrim when it happened, aiming to seek refuge with the Stormcloaks. Him clubbing me over the head and sending me off was why I got caught by the Imperials and taken to Helgen. The incident was close enough to be handled by the Thalmor agents working in their embassy in Solitude. So, when I infiltrated it to find out about the dragons…I ran across a dossier with his name on it. They'd been investigating several others allied with Niel and his group, hunting them. But Niel's file was…complete."

"Ketar…I'm so sorry."

His breath shuddered as he blinked back tears, a bitter laugh coming from his throat. "I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. Lydia's probably the one who knows the most, and she's my oldest friend in Skyrim. But you…" he looked back at her, "we just met."

Serana smiled at him. "Everyone needs friends, Ketar. You say that you operate largely on instinct." She shrugged. "Maybe your instincts are telling you that I can be something she can't. Or that I might understand better." She frowned. "Because let me tell you, my family life was no cakewalk either."

Eager to get the focus off him, Ketar nodded to her. "Tell me about it."

She sighed. "Well, you met my father—briefly. Admittedly, he wasn't _always_ that crazy, but he was still…belligerent, to say the least. Especially with my mother. They would have these…long, drag-out fights that made me want to curl into a ball and never come out." She frowned. "And the worst part is, when she realized she couldn't win, my mother tried to use me against Harkon. She'd keep filling my head with all these stories about how horrible he was, and eventually…I believed her." A hard breath left her lungs. "To say that the zombies I resurrected were often better company than my parents would _not_ be an overstatement."

Ketar winced. "I'm sorry."

Serana shrugged. "It was a long time ago. Ancient history." A smirk. "Literally."

"But still. However long you've lived, I know the power of the human memory. I found out Niel was dead almost two years ago now, and sometimes, the pain is worse than the day it happened." He reached back to gently grip her hand. "No one should have to go through something like that."

Serana gave him a sad smile. "Thank you."

Ketar nodded and turned forward, riding in silence for a while before realizing his hand was still holding hers. Without being too obtrusive about it, he released his grip and put it firmly back on the reins. The heat in his face was joined by that obnoxious kicking in his chest, both of which he was rapidly growing annoyed with.

…

Isran watched in blank fascination as Ketar opened the rift and materialized an Elder Scroll out of thin air. The question was written all over his face, but he remained silent as the younger man gently handed it over.

"Be very careful with this."

Isran nodded and grasped its sides. "Of course."

The Redguard pulled slightly to relieve Ketar of the heavy scroll, face screwing up in confusion when the other man's grip around it actually tightened. When he looked up, Ketar's face was a study in grim warning.

"I mean it," he said firmly. "This thing holds more secrets than just those needed to stop Harkon."

Isran's eyes widened slightly when Ketar's meaning dawned on him, and he bowed his head slightly. "I'll keep it safe. I swear."

With a final reluctant glance at the Scroll, Ketar released it into Isran's care and headed off toward the fort's new forge.

"Sorine!"

The Breton woman snapped her attention to him immediately, face lighting up. "Ah! Ketar! Just the man I was hoping to see."

He blinked. "I am?"

"You are. Isran!"

The Redguard trudged over to them, casting a passing glare at Serana, who was busy examining the Dawnguard's new store of alchemical ingredients. Ketar caught Isran's eye when he kept staring at him, and the two continued glaring at each other for a while before being interrupted.

"As I was saying," Sorine continued, "there are a number of Dwemer schematics that will allow us to advance our crossbow technology. As luck would have it, the first just so happens to coincide with the location of someone we could use on our side: Florentius Baenius."

"Wait," Isran interrupted, "that nut? Sorine, are you sure—"

"Yes, Isran. He may be a little off in the head, but his abilities in Restoration magic will prove _immensely_ valuable against the vampires."

Isran's lips pursed for a moment before he sighed and relented. "Fine. If we _must_ have him with us, you'll find him in the Ruunvald excavation north of Riften."

"Good to know," Ketar said. "And the schematics?"

"They should be somewhere in his camp. Eccentric or not, Florentius is no fool. If he comes across any Dwemer schematics, he'll know what to do with them."

"Understood. We'll get it done."

Isran bristled at his casual use of the word "we."

"Serana," he called, motioning her away from the cabinets and toward the exit.

Halfway out the door, a familiar voice called after them.

"Ketar! Lady Serana!"

Serana smiled. "Agmaer. Good to see you again."

The Nord cleared his throat and nodded to her. "Likewise." He turned to Ketar. "I heard you're going on a mission for Sorine. Mind if I tag along?"

That irritating feeling crept back in when Ketar saw Agmaer throwing Serana longer and longer looks, but he pushed it aside. "It should be just a milk run, but…" he glanced toward Serana, who was giving him this peeved expression, "but you never know what can happen. Besides, this Florentius character sounds like a handful. Could be useful to have an extra set of limbs."

Agmaer grinned. "Then I'll get my things."

"Ah—as long as it's okay with Serana." He turned to her with a silent plea in his eyes. The moment he saw her smile, he knew he'd lost.

"Absolutely," she said. "The more the merrier. After all, I've only been in this time about week or so, and Ketar is…well…Ketar." She grinned cheekily. "It'll be nice having someone else around for a change."

Agmaer coughed and reddened slightly. "Well, all right then. I'll be right back!"

Ketar watched him go with tightly pursed lips.

"What is your problem with him?"

"Nothing," he answered quickly. "I don't have a problem with—" he sighed, "—he just reminds me of me, two years ago. So young and naïve and…eager to please."

"Ever think that makes him just a _little_ more likable than you?"

Serana grinned at his glare.

…

On the trip to Ruunvald, Ketar was mostly silent, though not because he was stewing or any other particular reason. He just had little interest in conversation most of the time, and now that Agmaer was here, it didn't really seem like he was needed to keep one up with Serana. At some point, close to their target destination, he drew his new ebony sword and began sharpening it with a whetstone in his saddle. The soft quiet of the environment lent itself to a certain dullness of thought, a rote monotony that soothed his usually racing mind. A frown slowly creased his features as his mind drifted to the events of the past couple of days.

Specifically, his thoughts were occupied by the Thalmor's sudden interest in him. Ever since the treaty he'd struck with the Stormcloaks and Imperials, they'd pretty much left him alone. Though maybe that was the point. Since it had been around three months and he hadn't yet fulfilled the terms that would annul said treaty, namely killing Alduin, perhaps they were starting to realize that he could, in theory, keep this up indefinitely. They may not have been responsible for the dragons returning, as Delphine had suggested, but they most certainly profited from chaos among the humans, and what better form of chaos than a civil war? His jaw clenched and eyes flashed with fury.

 _Bastards._

"Hey, you all right?"

Ketar blinked in surprise when it was Agmaer asking, and not Serana. He quickly pasted a small smile on. "Yeah. Fine. Just thinking."

"About?" Serana pressed.

His face darkened a bit under his hood. "Something I've been…putting off. And will continue to do so for the moment."

"Why's that?" Agmaer asked.

His head shook. "Long story for another time." He looked up and nodded at a cave in the distance. "We're here."

Dark blue eyes scanned the entrance of the cave, narrowing progressively as they spied an frayed, unoccupied tent with an Imperial flag planted next to it.

"Something's off," Ketar said. "There should be at least a token guard force outside." He drew his new ebony longsword and held it at his side one-handedly. "Stay on your toes."

Serana drew her dagger and Agmaer his crossbow as they followed him into the excavation. The heavy, stale air of the cave was the least disturbing part he noticed upon entering. No, what really caught his attention was the uncontrollable way his eyebrows and fingers were twitching, as they always did when in the presence of heavy magical resonance. The atmosphere was thick with it, the very air charged and almost glowing to his Breton sensitivities. Body tense, he pressed forward in the lead down a long, descending tunnel that came to the top of a wooden scaffold with a downward-sloping ramp. The scaffold itself overlooked a large, open chamber of ancient Nordic design, at the bottom of which was a robed Vigilant of Stendarr, who was currently facing away from them.

The initial relief at seeing one of their order was overcome by the thick tension in the air. It wasn't until he and the others descended halfway down the ramp that he noticed that the Vigilant was staring blankly off into space. Ketar's eyes widened as he exchanged a look with Serana.

"Compelled?" he mouthed at her.

Serana's brows furrowed and lips pursed as she stared at the man's back, shaking her head uncertainly.

Cautiously, Ketar approached him and sheathed his sword, gently reaching for his arm. "Excuse me, friend—"

 _Shing!_

Ketar's head withdrew just beyond range of the Vigilant's drawing slash, the wind skidding off the blade and brushing against his face. When the blade passed his face, he charged forward and shoulder-slammed the robed man against the wall behind him, pinning his armed hand to the stones. The Vigilant dropped the sword into his other hand and made another swing for him, but Ketar turned with the strike and used his momentum to throw him off-balance. A firm grasp of his sword arm allowed him to twist it behind his back with one hand while Ketar's other arm went around his neck in a blood-hold. A few seconds passed before the Vigilant dropped to the ground unconscious, Ketar kicking the sword from his limp fingers as he caught his breath.

"Okay. That…complicates things." He frowned. "Especially if Florentius has been compelled too."

Serana crouched by the Vigilant and put a hand over his pale forehead. Her head shook slowly. "He's not compelled. I'd recognize _that_ anywhere." She stood up and frowned deeply. "This is straight sorcery."

"That's _not_ good. The Vigilants are trained to be possessed of indomitable will. Whatever—or whoever—is powerful enough to do this to them is not something we want to tangle with lightly."

Agmaer's eyes widened in alarm at the man on the ground. "If there are other Vigilants here…will they _all_ be like this?"

"From here on," replied Ketar, "we should assume so." He drew his sword, twirling it into an underhanded position as they proceeded deeper into the ruin. "Defend yourselves, but try not to kill any of them. This isn't their fault, and if they're being controlled, they won't be as effective as they would normally."

"Whatever happens," Serana added, "we can't afford to get separated or we could be overwhelmed."

Ketar nodded. "Agreed. Agmaer, stick close to Serana."

She shot him a look. "Not that I'm complaining, but why me?"

"Because when I'm dealing with heavy-duty magic, the air around me tends to get, shall we say…agitated. And this place is practically crawling with excess magicka left over from whatever mind-blasted _that_ guy." He nodded toward the downed Vigilant. "Needless to say, being around me might rapidly become a _very_ bad idea." A smile that hinted of dark glee flickered over his lips.

Serana's eyebrows shot skyward. "Well in that case—"

"Let's move," he interrupted. "No telling what damage will be done to Florentius if we delay, and we need him alive."

The other two exchanged a look at Ketar's abrupt manner, but followed closely behind as he rapidly made his way down one passage after the next until they came within sight of several more Vigilants, one of whom was mining a green malachite ore vein while the other two were milling about blankly. Ketar crouched down and eyed them carefully, a breath drawing in deeply.

" _Laas-Yah-Nir_."

He peered at the area ahead for a few moments before standing and pushing forward, motioning Serana toward the leftmost Vigilant and Agmaer the right while he went straight down the middle. A careless step by Agmaer's heavy boots caused a large chunk of malachite to fall off a nearby mine cart and the three Vigilants to snap toward him instantly. He just let out a nervous laugh and tackled the closest Vigilant in range. One of the others prepared a frost spell, but quickly found himself clutching his middle when Serana hit him with a condensed form of her kinetic bolt, following with a flying roundhouse to the face. The third Vigilant, the one who'd been mining, brandished his pickaxe and charged Ketar without so much as a sound.

Frowning behind his hood, Ketar brought his sword up to stop the first incoming strike, then hooked him in the jaw and push-kicked the Vigilant hard back into the ore vein. The pickaxe swung over his head when he ducked and dashed forward with a shoulder charge that knocked the wind out of the hijacked Vigilant. A club of his ebony pommel to the temple rendered him unconscious as Serana choked out her target and Agmaer just pinned his to the ground with sheer weight alone.

"Uh," he drawled, "a little help?"

Serana sighed softly and marched over to the Vigilant, frowning thoughtfully for a moment before pointing two fingers at the controlled priest. "Sleep."

The Vigilant's eyes flickered around the room haphazardly for a while, his face twitching with undefinable expressions for a while as Serana's breathing started to get heavy. His eyes eventually rolled back into his head and he passed out drooling into the stones. The room was silent for a while before Ketar took a breath.

"What the hell was that?"

Serana's frown only deepened. "Whatever has these Vigilants under its spell is almost as strong as my compulsion, and even _I_ can only do it to one or two moderately strong minds at a time. For someone to have enslaved _all_ of them…"

Agmaer stood up and dusted himself off, lips pursed. "I'm not sure I _want_ to meet who's behind this."

"Don't worry," said Ketar, "when we find them, I'll engage. You just keep the Vigilants at bay. If there are any still conscious."

Several sets of heavy footsteps came from a nearby passage, prompting them to face four more blank-stared Vigilants as they poured into the room.

Ketar's head tilted briefly. "Speaking of which."

The three hunters formed up and quickly divided the Vigilants as they rushed into the room. Serana was taking on two, being the overall strongest of the group, and made a point of disarming them before the room was suddenly engulfed in an all-out brawl. Ketar blocked two empty-handed strikes from his Vigilant before sending a small shock burst at one of Serana's, causing him to spaz out long enough for her to clock him in the side of the head. His spell left him open to a tackle by his man, which he countered with a leaping knee to the chest and tossing aside of the Vigilant.

"We don't have time for this!" Serana shouted.

Ketar nodded in agreement as he stomped on the face of his opponent. "This keeps up, we won't have the strength to stop the sorcerer responsible. Agmaer!"

The Nord gave him a glance while he held his man in a painful-looking arm-bar.

"Let's sprint this! Ignore them all!"

Agmaer nodded and threw his Vigilant aside as Serana did the same with hers, all three of them dashing toward a passage that led deeper into the mine. One corridor after the next carried the sounds of their hurried footsteps as they stormed through Ruunvald, tackling and shoving past any glassy-eyed Vigilants in their way until they came to a stop in a large cavern with a bridge spanning its upper level. At the end of said bridge were five Vigilants and a particularly vicious-looking dog, all of whom were snarling at the trio. Ketar leaned slightly toward their vampire and lowered his voice.

"Serana, how many of those Vigilants do you think you can compel to stop?"

She shot him a look. "Maybe two at a time, why?"

"Because the central one holds the mark of a Paladin, and if his hijacked power is even half the strength of his normal one—"

"I get the picture. Are you sure we don't just want to blow past him?"

"If I thought we could, we'd already be gone." Ketar slowly drew his ebony sword. "We need to at least cripple him for the time being, or he'll follow behind and make our lives _very_ miserable."

Agmaer shuffled up beside them as the Paladin tugged slightly on the leash holding their dog. "I think I have just the thing."

Serana and Ketar watched as their young comrade pulled a flask from the back of his belt and used part of its contents to douse a thin-tipped crossbow bolt.

"Agmaer," Ketar warned.

"Trust me."

Tense but accepting, Ketar watched and waited as the Nord took aim and slowly released a deep breath. The moment he let the bolt fly, the Vigilants snapped into action and began to charge, the dog included. The Paladin, however, didn't lunge forward, mostly because he was falling face-first into the stones with a thin wooden bolt buried in his shoulder and a snore coming from his throat. Ketar's eyebrows hiked upward, but he didn't have time to gawk, as the rest of the Vigilants lunged forward with weapons that ranged from standard swords and axes to an actual flail. Speaking of which…

Ketar ducked in alarm as a spiked steel ball swung over his head and nearly shattered Agmaer's crossbow, instead knocking it from his grip and into a two-story fall to the bottom of the cavern below. Serana lunged between the Nord and his attackers with a rapid dagger deflect from one and kick-back of another that laid him out in one shot. Agmaer drew his axe and began parrying blows from the remaining Vigilants while Ketar's black sword flashed with an endless flowing pattern of spiraling deflects. While the Vigilants focused their attentions on the Dragonborn's showy moves, Agmaer manually stabbed another thin, doused bolt into the side of one and Serana put one in a blood-hold, knocking him out in seconds.

A kinetic bolt dislocated the knee of another Vigilant that came up behind Agmaer, the Nord swiftly shunting his current opponent aside to kick the crippled one unconscious. The dog snarled and lunged for Serana's throat, but inches away from digging its fangs into her flesh, she caught it by the scruff and gave it a mildly disgusted look, as if holding something mangy and rabid—which Ketar supposed was accurate. The last Vigilant hit the deck with a well-placed electric spell to the shoulder while Serana tossed the husky into a nearby stone pillar. That earned her a small glare from Ketar, but when it stirred and whimpered, he watched it carefully until it slumped over, breath deepening in sleep.

Hurried footsteps from their previous path spurred them into action, the trio barreling down the stairs to retrieve Agmaer's crossbow and get to the next level of Ruunvald. It was a long, arduous path that brought them into a temple-like arena, the trio coming to an abrupt stop when faced with two Vigilants and a black-hooded and robed woman with a familiar shade of golden eyes. Ketar's fingers twitched at the thick stench of magic in the air, its energy swirling around the woman and concentrated on a particular point on her person. Serana's knife cleared its sheath as Agmaer reloaded his crossbow with another anesthetic bolt and took aim at the Vigilants.

The Altmer woman just cocked her head and smiled behind her hood. "Interesting. A vampire, a thief, and a hunter…what could these three possibly have in common?"

Ketar's eyes narrowed. "Are you Thalmor?"

She laughed.

"I'll take that as a no."

Her eyes twinkled with a mad glint. "I am Minorne, sovereign of Ruunvald and commander of these Vigilants."

"I think you mean subjugator," Agmaer snarled.

She shrugged. "With all that's been happening to their order, what's the difference, really? Better that they live under a strong hand than perish under the weak heads that led them to ruin."

"I think they'd like to make that choice for themselves," Serana drawled, eyeing the Vigilants with a familiar dominating look.

Minorne noticed. "You may have been able to disable my puppets upstairs, but here, in my presence…" she grinned madly, "you'll have to kill them to stop them."

"No," answered Ketar with a draw of his sword. "Just you."

With that, all three lunged forward to their respective targets, Ketar ducking under a lightning bolt thrown by Minorne and countering with a wide-arc fire spell that forced the Vigilants to scatter in opposite directions. Paying no attention to Serana or Agmaer, Ketar savagely swung for Minorne, who sidestepped and slid away like liquid, laughing as she countered with several lightning blasts that impacted a hastily summoned ward. The ward, much to Ketar's surprise, shattered on the first impact, the second scoring a solid hit on his shoulder and sending him flying back into a stone column with a cry.

Serana lunged toward Ketar while half-dragging her Vigilant along by the collar, throwing the man into the path of Minorne's next spell when it was clear the Breton wouldn't recover in time. Ketar shot her a mildly dirty look, but still nodded his thanks as he regained his footing and sheathed his sword in favor of a strange spell she hadn't seen before. Minorne channeled and unleashed a burst of violet energy that opened a momentary portal to Oblivion, revealing a massive Frost Atronach on the other side, which then started advancing on Ketar. If that wasn't enough, the door to Ruunvald's upper section burst open with three more Vigilants, undoubtedly some of the ones they'd bypassed earlier.

Snarling, Ketar lunged for Minorne, sprinting and sliding under the drill-like arm of the Atronach when it took a stab at him. The spell in his right hand was finally ready, and unleashed in Minorne's direction at the same time she took another shot at him. Hers missed. His didn't. A highly concentrated sphere of destructive sapphire energy lanced toward Minorne, shattering her ward and leaving her open to a second shot that was just barely avoided. The shock on her features was mirrored only by her rage, and Minorne was back on her feet immediately, spraying the ground in front of her with a wall of lightning as the bulky Frost Atronach came about and lunged for Ketar's back. He effortlessly twirled about two more spells from Minorne and a swipe by the Atronach, almost dancer-like, his own hands flaring with energy as he unleashed an explosive fireball into the Daedra's face.

Half of the crystalline creature's head exploded in rapidly melting chunks of ice, Ketar using its stunned state to take a breath.

" _Yol-Toor-Shul_!"

The rest of the Atronach shattered in the massive blast of heat that proceeded from Ketar's throat, the Dragonborn rapidly turning to Minorne as she fired off two spells. His rapidly summoned ward deflected both of them with some effort, the magical barrier regenerating a moment later as he poured more and more magicka into it. Ketar's right hand flared with electricity for a moment before the blue energy once again condensed into the highly concentrated form of an unstable ball. That ball was sent in Minorne's direction, her stronger ward managing to keep it away this time but draining visibly all the same. Seeing this, Ketar dropped his ward and began bombarding her with bolt after bolt of unstable energy, a rightward flicker of his eyes revealing Serana and Agmaer barely holding back almost a dozen Vigilants between them.

Gritting his teeth, Ketar outpoured every dreg of magicka he had left in a rapid barrage of magical attacks, Minorne managing to dodge one and use the opportunity to fire off a lightning spell that impacted him dead-center. To her vast surprise, Ketar just shrugged it off with a grin, his hands sparking with electricity as he moved them in wide arcs. Eyes widening in panic, Minorne used both hands to channel a powerful magic ward. It solidified fully the moment Ketar unleashed a massive, blindingly bright lightning storm that didn't let up for a good twenty seconds, at which point the Altmer mage was flung against a far wall and pinned there for a second or two of constant electric bombardment. He stopped just at the brink of reducing her to crisp in favor of stalking toward her with his sword drawn.

"Ketar, hurry!" Serana screamed.

He looked back to see them both struggling to hold the Vigilants back, Agmaer bleeding profusely from several points on his body while Serana was as inhumanly perfect as ever. Well, except for the massive bruise over her left eye, which _immediately_ put an extra spur to his steps as he advanced on Minorne. The deranged mage was looking up at him in shock and blatant fear, her mouth wide open and body visibly shaking.

"W-What… _are_ you?"

Ketar smiled nastily. "Not just a thief. I am the Arch-Mage of Winterhold, defender of magic in all of Skyrim." His hands flared with mystic energy. "And you, _witch_ , are a monster. What you have done here is nothing less than a perversion of magic, and as such, you must be cleansed from this world."

To his surprise, Minorne's face twisted in a sardonic smirk. "Oh, by all means. Just make sure those Vigilants are all right with biting the dust as soon as you strike me down."

Ketar's face shifted. "What are you talking about?"

She chuckled. "It's simple. If I die, they die."

"You're lying. No mere mage is powerful enough to cast a spell that powerful."

Minorne laughed in his face. "You _sanctimonious_ fool! You think this was all me? It's this place, the power I harnessed here—the connection I forged with these Vigilants is _unbreakable_."

Ketar hesitated for a moment and took a step away from her, looking back to see Agmaer tossed into a wall and Serana dog-piled by priests. And then something twitched in his head, some flare of energy that pulled his attention to the side, to an object that had flown from Minorne's person when she was blown back. His head cocked slightly as he stretched out with his Breton senses, the swirl and roil of magical resonance nothing less than _exactly_ what he'd been picking up from the Vigilants. Then he turned back to her and smiled.

"Is that so?"

A look of realization passed over Minorne's features as Ketar sheathed his sword, then reached out to the side and telekinetically summoned the object.

"No!" she screamed, an ethereal dagger appearing in her hands as she lunged toward Ketar in a stab that he couldn't dodge in time.

Thankfully, he didn't have to, as an Elven dagger pierced her armed wrist and caused her to drop the knife with a screech as she slid to a kneeling stop barely a step away from Ketar. The palm of his right hand slapped against something cold and metallic as Minorne stared up at him with terrified eyes. His left hand flared with sapphire energy as he held up a gem-tipped staff and cast the spell into the center of its shaft, shattering it and Minorne's hold over the Vigilants in the process. Minorne's yellowed skin paled as one by one, the Vigilants dropped unconscious, leaving her utterly alone against three very pissed-off fighters, one of whom was eyeing her like a particularly tasty meal. Ketar held up a hand to prevent Serana from lunging for her throat.

"As Arch-Mage of Winterhold, I find you guilty of crimes against both magic and humanity, Minorne; a perversion and co-option of free will that nearly cost the lives of many innocent priests. By the laws of Skyrim, the sentence for such a blatant act of domination and violence…is death." Ketar smiled nastily. "To be carried out immediately."

She didn't even get the chance to plead for mercy before Ketar's right hand forcefully shoved a bolt of unstable plasma through her heart, a series of uncontrollable splutters coming from her throat as she uselessly clung to life. The Arch-Mage cocked his head slightly, expression frightfully neutral as she slowly collapsed to the ground. And then both his hands flared with energy and bathed the witch in an endless, blinding stream of lightning that reduced her to ash in seconds. Serana and Agmaer blankly stared at the remains for a while before exchanging a look and turning to Ketar, who was standing stock-still in the aftermath.

Serana approached him cautiously. "Ketar?"

He flinched and slowly turned to face her, a smile twitching at his lips before his legs gave out completely and he fell into her arms.

"Ketar!"

He grinned and let out a few half-delirious chuckles. "Whoo…" His face was getting paler and paler by the second until he pulled a small blue vial from his belt and downed it in one shot. "Well that was fun." His color began to stabilize and return over the course of a few seconds. "Not doing that again anytime soon."

Agmaer rushed to their side to help Serana lift him up. "What _did_ you do?"

Ketar smiled crookedly. "I exhausted my entire supply of magicka."

Serana's eyes widened. "Are you _crazy_?"

"I know my limits," he reassured her. "I just haven't had much reason to push them lately." He grinned and tested the feeling in his hands. "Glad to see I haven't lost it."

Serana frowned, still peeved at his nonchalant stance toward his severely weakened state. "What was that spell you used? The one you struck her in the heart with?"

"And why are you so weak?" Agmaer added.

"Both very good questions," Ketar conceded, "that I will answer later. After we've found Florentius."

…

As it turned out, that didn't take very long, since Florentius' voice could be heard from almost all the way across the temple. Apparently, he was praying to Arkay fervently, kneeling before a small shrine in front of him in the cell Minorne had no doubt thrown him in.

"Florentius Baenius?" Ketar asked.

He stopped praying abruptly, turning a curious look on the trio. "You don't _look_ like zombies."

"The Vigilants have been freed," Serana answered. "They're all right."

"And the Elf witch?"

"Fried," Ketar answered darkly. "Which means we can get you out of here now. In return, we'd like to ask for your assistance. The Dawnguard needs your expertise to fight a war against Skyrim's vampires."

"Oh? Hmm…" He turned to the shrine and began speaking. "What do you think, Lord Arkay?"

Ketar and Agmaer exchanged a look.

"Hm. Mhm? Of course. As you wish." Florentius turned back to them with a smile. "I'm pleased to say that Lord Arkay has agreed to lend you my services. I can leave for Fort Dawnguard immediately."

Agmaer cast the priest a sideways look as he turned his head toward Ketar and lowered his voice a bit. "I'm no expert in magic, but I _think_ I figured out why Minorne didn't mind control him."

"Yeah," Ketar agreed, "not much mind to control."

"Be nice, you two," said Serana as she pushed between them to blast the locked door with a kinetic bolt. "There you go, sir."

Florentius stepped through the door and took her hand with a small bow. "Why thank you, milady. Good to know some people appreciate the value of courtesy to their elders." He shot Ketar and Agmaer a mild reprimanding look before turning back to Serana with a smile. "And especially someone so ravishing."

Serana's smile became a little pinched as she ushered him toward the exit. "Right this way, sir."

Ketar and Agmaer watched them leave with blank expressions, the former speaking up once they were out of earshot. "Did that old priest just _flirt_ with Serana?"

Agmaer opened his mouth.

Ketar stopped him with a hand. "Don't—answer that."

…

For Serana, finally getting out to the surface was quite literally a breath of fresh air. What greeted them upon reaching the outside was…not so pleasant. More specifically, a six-man squad of blue-hose-and-chainmail-clad soldiers in full battle gear. Their weapons weren't drawn, but the tension was clear in their stances. Ketar's body stiffened as soon as he came within sight of them, but he stepped forward regardless, pulling back his black hood to reveal a startlingly peeved expression on his face.

"Tell me," Ketar said with a deeper, almost threatening voice, "what the hell are the Stormcloaks doing in the Rift?"

* * *

AN: Sorry it's taken me so long to update. School has been absolute _murder_ lately, so I've been a little busy. Add to that the fact that I've been sick for the past half week, and, well…there you go. Hope you're enjoying the interaction with various people from Ketar's past and the side questlines especially. I've tried to implant as much personality and substance as I can in each of them. Florentius is kind of necessary for something I have planned in the future, but what comes next should be...interesting. I'll explain what happened with Ketar's magic next chapter.

Hope you liked this latest chapter.

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

Doctor Strange - Ancient Sorcerer's Secret: confronting Minorne/Atronach battle/magical barrage/lightning storm


	7. The Dark Brotherhood Forever

"Well? I asked you a question, soldier."

Ketar's three companions looked between him and the Stormcloaks as the lead soldier bristled at his tone.

"I've been instructed—"

"Ordered," Ketar corrected.

"—to escort you to Windhelm."

"And why, pray tell, did Ulfric feel the need to violate the treaty we so painstakingly ironed out just to walk away empty-handed?"

The soldier hesitated a moment in confusion. "Empty-ha—"

Faster than anyone could react—even Serana—Ketar had the soldier in a painful headlock.

"Because I believe I made it abundantly clear what would happen should he cross _any_ lines he's not supposed to. Which sending you here clearly does."

One of the other Stormcloaks, a woman, stepped forward. "Jarl Ulfric demands your presence to discuss a matter of grave importance. He sent us because he did not believe you would receive a letter as readily."

Ketar held up the trapped soldier's head in indication. "Does it look like I'm receiving _you_ readily?"

The woman visibly gulped.

"Let me make one thing abundantly clear: no one _demands_ my presence. They request. And then I decide whether or not I say yes." He shoved the soldier back toward his comrades. "Relay _that_ message back to Ulfric. Tell him that I'll go to see him when I'm damn well good and ready."

The Stormcloaks exchanged worried looks, then nodded to him.

Ketar waited until they were just starting to leave when he called out to them again. "And tell him that I'll overlook this little…incursion." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "This time."

The whipped curs of Ulfric Stormcloak limped off to the north with their tails between their legs, much to Ketar's satisfaction and the mild stupefaction of his company. Florentius was the first to comment.

"Arkay says you remind him of the time Talos and Stendarr were arguing. Akatosh had to club them both over the head to get them to stop."

The other three turned to give him a blank look, at which point Florentius smiled, bowed, and silently took his leave.

"Baenius!" Ketar called, stopping him. "Here," he said, handing over the Dwemer schematics he'd retrieved from Ruunvald. "Give these to Sorine. She'll know what to do."

Florentius took them with a nod and kept walking. Agmaer sidled up next to Ketar when he was gone.

"So what now?" he asked.

Ketar frowned. "Ulfric sending soldiers into Imperial territory, with a truce in place? I don't like it…or being summoned, for that matter, but sacrifices have to be made, I suppose. We're going to Windhelm."

…

"So…"

Ketar arched an eyebrow at Serana. "What?"

"Magic. Weakness." She leaned closer to him on the saddle. "Spill."

He sighed and turned back forward. "Okay, first off—Agmaer. Since you don't use magic, you wouldn't really have to worry about this, but…magicka is the Aetherial substance found in all living creatures, whether or not they use it in spells. You could say it's kind of like our…life-force. That's why mages who expend too much too fast often appear weakened, sometimes quite severely. Most people who practice magic have a sort of instinctive…mental cap on their power, so they never release too much of their magicka. While I was studying at the College, I kind of found a way to… _remove_ that block."

Serana stared at the back of his head. "So I was right. You _are_ crazy."

"No," he replied firmly, "I just know my limits. And I know that if I _hadn't_ figured out how to push them, my battles would've killed me long before magicka loss. That's why I keep small vials of the stuff on me at all times." He shrugged. "Just in case." He took a deep breath and sighed. "As for that spell I used on Minorne, that was learned from the same object that taught me how to lift my blocks: the Eye of Magnus."

"The what now?" Agmaer asked confusedly.

"I'll—spare you the details, but bottom line is, it was an _extremely_ powerful magical artifact. A virtually infinite source of power and knowledge, until a greedy Thalmor agent tried to take that power for himself. The legendary Psijic Order had been in communication with me previously, warning me I would have to stop him…so I did. And in return, they took the Eye from the College, permanently removing it from the Thalmor's reach. Before that, though, I got the chance to study it up close, courtesy of the previous Arch-Mage, and what I gleaned from its sigils was a new adaptation of a familiar form of magic: plasma magic."

Serana's eyebrows hiked upward. "Plasma?"

Ketar nodded slowly. "An unstable form of ionized particles—in this case, highly concentrated electricity; the contents of a lightning bolt condensed into a _much_ smaller volume, so that on release, the energy doesn't just randomly dissipate into the target, but concentrates all its destructive force on a single point. Burns through just about anything in one direct hit."

"Then why hadn't I seen you use it before?"

"You did, but it was cloaked in a flash of light."

Serana's eyes widened. "The spell you used to blind the Thalmor commander—the one that impacted his lightning strike."

"Exactly."

"That's… _incredible_. You've gotta teach me that one."

Ketar smirked. "Only if you teach me to use your kinetic bolt."

She smiled. "Deal."

…

Given Ruunvald's far northern location within the Rift, it wasn't long before they were approaching the gates of Windhelm and proceeding inside the snow-streaked stronghold.

"Let me guess," Ketar said suddenly, eyes on Serana. "Different from the last time you were here?"

She smiled gamely, getting a confused look from Agmaer. "Inside joke," she explained.

"Ah."

Ketar's mirthful mood vanished as soon as he approached the Palace of the Kings and saw six guards manning either door of the entrance. "Well…this is where we part ways for now. I'd stay in the Stone Quarter if I were you. Too many nosy sorts in Valunstrad and the Gray Quarter…let's just say that it's a little volatile there these days."

Serana nodded slowly. "We'll stay out of trouble. Won't we, Agmaer?"

Agmaer, distracted by some children walking by, abruptly straightened and faced her. "Of course, Lady Serana."

Ketar nodded to both of them, noting (absently—there was nothing more to it) that Agmaer was hovering over Serana protectively before he turned away. A sigh came from his lips as he approached the guards and showed them the sapphire-adorned silver ring on his right hand. They nodded as soon as they saw it and wordlessly stepped aside to allow him passage. Ketar's unease was far from satisfied upon entering the main hall of the palace. As luck would have it, the exact opposite was true, especially since save for the door guards and Ulfric Stormcloak himself, the room was empty of people. The long table that adorned the center of the room was conspicuously bare of any candles, plates, or anything at all.

And Ulfric never took his eyes off Ketar as he approached the throne. Point of fact, the man never blinked until Ketar was standing before him, stock-still. A potent silence fell over them both as they stared at each other.

"So," Ulfric said suddenly, "threatening my men."

Ketar shrugged nonchalantly. "They were trespassing. And making some…unfortunate insinuations about my ability to choose."

Ulfric bristled just enough to be noticeable. "Don't blame them for their zeal. Loyalty is something to be commended, wouldn't you say?"

Ketar smiled venomously. "Oh, trust me, I _don't_ blame _them_."

The two men silently stared each other down for a while before Ketar sighed wearily.

"Why did you want me here?"

Ulfric frowned. "Because I have a question. One that can only be asked in person."

Ketar arched an eyebrow. "All right?"

The Jarl leaned forward in his seat. "Whose side are you on?"

He didn't even blink. "Skyrim's."

Ulfric's eyes narrowed. "That isn't an answer."

"Yes. It is."

The Nord's expression was slowly becoming more and more furious. "You mean to tell me you intend to remain neutral? You, the Dragonborn, tasked with protecting mankind from—"

"I'm tasked with destroying the World-Eater, Stormcloak, not _protecting_ anyone. I _choose_ to defend who I will because that is who I am, and whatever reasons I have are my own."

"I would still like to know them."

"Your little 'welcoming committee' out in the Rift didn't make me feel particularly chatty." Ketar's arms crossed. "And neither have you. Speaking of which, what the hell were you thinking? You surrendered the Rift to Tullius when we agreed to a cease-fire. Sending a detachment of Stormcloak soldiers into Imperial-controlled territory—are you _trying_ to break the treaty?" He snarled and took a threatening step toward the throne. "Because so help me, Ulfric, if you are—"

"None of my usual couriers could find you, Dov. Don't read into it."

"Right," he replied skeptically.

"Believe what you will. I don't want my people to go to war any more than you do. But war has been inevitable for quite some time, so tell me…why does the World-Eater yet live?"

Ketar's blood went cold, his voice coming out weakly. "What?"

Ulfric's eyes narrowed. "You strong-armed us into that treaty so you could defeat Alduin. It's been three months. You're _clearly_ recovered if you can go about gallivanting with the Dawnguard and manhandle my men, so what's the hold-up?"

He bit his lower lip. "It's complicated."

The Jarl's head shook slowly. "No. It isn't."

Ketar began to pale as Ulfric stood up.

"It's clear to me now." He began striding down from the throne.

The two men came practically nose-to-nose.

"You're just another one of Tullius' puppets. This treaty was a sham to give that fool time to prepare."

Ketar blinked at that, heat and blood rapidly returning to his face as a wave of derision and anger rose within him. "Oh _really_? Me, work for the man who ordered my demise with no reason except who I was stuck in a cart with? Where's the justice in that?" He turned for the exit.

"Justice?!"

Ketar came to a halt to glare over his shoulder.

"The Empire and their Thalmor overlords prostitute our nation, harass and persecute our people, and you would speak of justice?! Where is the justice in honest, hardworking Nords being dragged from their homes by foreign Elves for no reason except that they worship in a way the Thalmor don't like? Where is the justice in the trade sanctions and co-option of our facilities, our livelihood, to feed the Empire's greed and armies? Tullius fights for a weak, corrupt government that has well passed its golden age and is little more than a puppet state for the Aldmeri. _I_ fight for the freedom of Skyrim, of _all_ men!"

Ketar whirled on him, furious. "Where is the justice in your treatment of magic, of those who are willing and eager to help, but looked down on because you see their talents as 'weak'?" He snapped and pointed toward the doors. "Where is the justice in the Gray Quarter, where your Dunmer neighbors are endlessly harassed and persecuted despite being 'honest, hardworking' people?" He got up in Ulfric's face, screaming at this point. "Where is the justice in the Orc villages and strongholds that your soldiers looted and _burned_ for their supply and entertainment?!" Ketar shook in unmistakable rage, voice lowering to a seething hiss. "I have _seen_ what your freedom looks like, Stormcloak: Nords at the top, with _everyone_ else under their heels." He snarled. "So explain to me, exactly what difference is there between you and Alduin?"

Ulfric blanched.

Ketar smirked nastily. "That's what I thought. Now, think to yourself: if I'm not willing to join Alduin—who is probably the closest thing I'll ever have to 'my own kind,' or even a brother, if you're feeling whimsical—what in the sixteen planes of Oblivion makes you think that I would _ever_ join you?"

The room fell silent for a while before Ketar's leaving steps were heard. He stopped as soon as he saw the guards bar the doors, slowly turning back to face a purple-faced Ulfric, whose hand was tightening around the hilt of his steel sword.

Ketar's eyes flickered to the weapon before coming back up to meet his eyes. "Don't, Ulfric. You don't want to do this."

Ulfric scowled. "I don't want to go to war either."

 _Shing!_

"But sacrifices must be made." He twirled his sword in menacing figure-eights. "And if you are not with me," he pointed his blade at Ketar, "you are _against_ me."

Ketar snarled and slowly drew his own sword. "Well, you're right about _one_ of those."

With a shared yell of fury, they charged each other, their blades meeting high, then low as one strike and block flowed into the next. Their feet and movements practically mirrored each other, their entire focus solely on the battle as they spiraled around each other in a seamless pattern of attacks and deflects. Shoulder, hip, midsection—one blow faded into the next until Ulfric lunged forward suddenly, shunting Ketar's blade aside, and drove the hilt of his sword into the other man's chest hard. A sudden, stabbing pain lit up his sternum, but he pushed through it with a growl, grappling with his sword arm and forcing it several degrees in the wrong direction before tossing him away.

Ulfric whirled and swung at him with a vengeance, nearly scoring a glancing hit on his left cheek and finding himself on the wrong end of a shin-kick to the gut. The Jarl stumbled backwards and made two quick swipes at Ketar, high-low, before spinning around the Dragonborn's countering thrust and slashing at his back. A quick pivot of his ebony sword was enough to stop it in its tracks, but the force of the impact drove the back edge of his blade into Ketar's right shoulder blade. Though it wasn't full-force, he could feel the leather of his Guildmaster suit give partway under the razor-sharp edge even as he lunged away. A dive-roll temporarily removed him from Ulfric's reach, allowing him to realign himself, blade held at his side and pointed directly at Ulfric.

No words were exchanged as they sized each other up. The battle would speak for itself.

A lunge on both their parts brought their swords together once more, Ketar using his extended reach to make several attempts at shallow cuts along his arms and legs, trying to slow him down. Ulfric just parried everything, eventually locking his sword with Ketar's and using a sudden forward push to knock the Dragonborn off-balance. Or so he thought. While Ketar was "stumbling" backward, Ulfric made a wide sweep for his legs, but he leapt over the strike in a falling kick that split the Jarl's left eyebrow open and temporarily blinded that eye with the blood that began running down his face.

Ketar laid on the hurt then, hammering Ulfric's defenses over and over until he was almost recklessly pursuing him. And then something happened that he had never expected. Ulfric Spoke.

" _Fus-Ro-Dah_!"

The sudden and unexpected burst of pure force catapulted him back into the main hall's long table, sword nearly falling from suddenly limp fingers as he gasped to catch his breath. Ulfric advanced rapidly, steel blade coming down like a guillotine aiming to split his head down the middle. Ketar pivoted to the side at the last second, the steel driving itself deep down into the wood as he kicked Ulfric away from the weapon. His own sword returned to its sheath a moment later, both hands coming up to guard his face against two rapid jabs. He slapped the second one down and countered with a snap-punch of his own, one that hit the bridge of Ulfric's nose hard enough to stun him briefly and opened him up to a right hook that really worked his jaw around.

A lunging side-kick drove Ulfric further back, followed by a leaping cross that he dodged and countered with a palm strike to the chest. The midair impact knocked the wind of out Ketar and laid him out back-first on the ground. Ulfric's fingers tried to wrap around his throat, his superior weight keeping him still as Ketar was steadily throttled. Ketar uselessly pulled at his thumbs and pressure points, the other man's rage seeming to dull the pain as he snarled down at him. Finally, with a titanic force of effort, Ketar managed to get a solid breath and channel his Voice.

" _Fus-Ro-Dah_!"

Ulfric went flying almost twenty feet straight into the air, spinning uncontrollably and half-panicking on the way down.

" _Enough_!" Ketar roared, feeling power build in his chest as he used Ulfric's midair position to line up an attack.

Coiling up in a split-second, he leapt in a tightly-curled twist-flip, sticking his right leg out the moment Ulfric came within range, effectively launching him toward the throne. Upon landing on his feet, a deep breath was taken in just a moment before he unleashed his Voice in a steady, booming chant.

" _Zu fen ni kos uth naal aan munax vith_!"

The Dragonborn advanced on an overtly terrified Ulfric with every step, the sheer power of his Voice shaking the very foundations of the Palace of Kings and knocking anyone still standing clear off their feet.

" _Unt daar fen, zu fen kos hin al_!"

Ulfric was visibly shaking by the time he was finished, and that didn't change when the echo of his statement faded from hearing. Ketar was still scowling at him furiously, but his anger was somewhat satisfied by the Jarl's current state, because when he spoke next, it was in a calm, even (if still threatening) tone.

"My word is final. I will _not_ be a puppet. Not yours. Not the Empire's." Ketar's head shook slightly. "Not anyone's. I'm on the side of _Skyrim_ and its _people_." He waved dismissively. "The rest of the political _bullshit_ I gladly leave to men like you." He took a single step toward Ulfric, satisfied by the other man's flinch. "Don't— _ever_ —summon me like this again. If you do, I promise…" he turned away and stalked toward the door, "you _will_ lose more than your pride."

…

Serana and Agmaer—along with everyone else in Windhelm—had stopped whatever they were doing when the Palace of Kings had begun to shake with the force of an echoing, otherworldly Voice. She immediately knew it was him, but was shocked anyway. Even when he'd been engaged in battle, she'd never heard him Speak so loudly—or angrily. By the looks of him when he emerged from the building, he actually _had_ been in a fight, and she wanted to ask about it, but one glance at his face was enough to dissuade _both_ of them from saying a word.

"Let's go," he snarled instead.

The guards, and indeed the entire populace, were staring at his furious countenance with nothing less than abject terror.

For the first time since they'd met…Serana felt the same.

…

It was half an hour before anyone spoke, and when they did, it wasn't any of the three.

"Listener!"

Ketar's head snapped up toward the source of the voice, eyes peering out from under his hood to see a familiar Redguard approaching on horseback. "Nazir," he intoned exhaustedly. "Good to see you."

Nazir tipped his head in greeting. "Heard you made quite the impression in Windhelm. A…botched discussion with the Jarl."

Ketar's left eyebrow arched as his lips twisted in a sardonic smirk. "You hear about that already?"

He shrugged and dismounted his horse. "I'm afraid word travels fast when it comes to you." His eyes alit on Serana's hooded form, barely giving Agmaer a glance before settling back onto the vampire. "Interesting new friends you have."

"I'll have to introduce you sometime," Ketar replied irritably, "but for now would you care to cut to the chase? I'm on a bit of a schedule."

Nazir blinked and frowned, then shook his head and motioned toward the side of the road. "In private."

Ketar sighed hard and dismounted, then sidled off to join his lieutenant. "What is it?"

"First off, Babette wanted me to ask what you know about the Dawnguard, but—" he glanced at Agmaer, "—by the looks of things, I'd say you have that under control."

"For now," he explained, "they only seem interested in one particular sect of vampires. And trust me, if Babette knew what they had planned, she'd want to wipe them out too."

Nazir arched an eyebrow. "I'll take your word on that. The second thing is, well…morale at the Sanctuary is at an all-time low. The new recruits are getting …antsy, eager to see their Listener. And I believe it's high time you spoke to Mother once more."

Ketar sighed and passed a hand over his face. "Unfortunately, I think you might be right. On _all_ counts. I won't talk to any of the recruits. Shouldn't need to. After all, I'm the Listener, not the Speaker. But the Night Mother will be…eh, she probably won't be happy I've stayed away for so long."

"On that we can agree, but I'm sure she'll be quick enough to forgive you. After all, it's been _centuries_ since she's had someone to listen to her. I doubt she'll cast you aside so easily."

"No doubt," Ketar admitted reluctantly. He gave another sigh and looked back toward Serana and Agmaer. "Nazir, I need you to do me a favor."

"Anything."

Ketar took a small parchment from his belt and began scribbling on it. "I want you to escort those two to the College of Winterhold. It's maybe half a day's ride from Dawnstar, and they'll be safe there, long as you present this writ to the gatekeeper." He handed the parchment to Nazir, a small smile quirking his lips. "Faralda is a…bit of a stickler for procedure."

Nazir smiled and nodded, accepting the paper. "It will be done."

"Thank you," he said with a hand on the other man's shoulder. Ketar turned back toward the rest of his party and moved for Stormbreaker. "Serana, Agmaer—I'm afraid something's come up that I can't avoid. I'll have to leave you for a bit, but not to worry." He motioned to the Redguard. "This is my friend Nazir—he'll take care of you while I'm gone."

Serana arched an inquisitive eyebrow that he barely caught in the shadows of her hood. "And we can't come with you why?"

Ketar frowned. "There are certain things you two just aren't meant to see."

She blinked in confusion and curiosity, but nodded. "I assume you'll want your horse back."

"Yes. Sorry."

Serana shrugged and dismounted. "It's nothing, really. I'm sure this Nazir will be _delighted_ to give me a ride."

Ketar tensed up as he looked toward the midnight-black fur and glowing red eyes of the assassin's mount. "Uhhh…that _might_ be a small—"

"I'll take her," Agmaer interrupted. He went red as soon as the others fixed their eyes on him. "I-If that's all right with Lady Serana."

Serana fixed Ketar with a brief but infuriatingly wry smirk before sauntering toward Agmaer's horse. "That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Agmaer."

The Nord cleared his throat and offered his hand to help her into the saddle. "Of course, milady."

Ketar stared at them for a few more seconds, that irritating feeling from Jorrvaskr flaring up almost violently. With everything else that had gone wrong today, he wasn't _surprised_ it had returned, but still—it was annoying. "I'll…see you in a day or two." He turned to Nazir, who mounted up on Shadowmere, his scimitar glinting in the pale overcast sun. "Take care of them."

Nazir's eyes flickered to Serana and Agmaer before turning to Ketar. And, of all things, he adopted that irritatingly knowing "Vilkas look." "Of course, Listener."

Ketar gave him a brief narrow-eyed glare before mounting up on Stormbreaker and taking off to the northwest.

…

The awed whispers and stares that greeted him as soon as he entered the Sanctuary were not unexpected, but annoying all the same. With the exception of maybe Babette, who was several hundred years older than him, they _all_ looked at him like he was some kind of _god_. Or, demigod, at least—which he supposed there _could_ be a case for, since he was technically the half-spawn of Akatosh…

Shaking his head slightly to clear away his thoughts, he silently strode past all of them and toward the chamber where Cicero kept up his constant vigil over the Night Mother's coffin.

"Keeper," he greeted respectfully, bracing himself for the jester's exuberant response.

"Oh Listener, great and powerful Listener—how _wonderful_ of you to grace us with your presence once again." Cicero frowned as he followed at his heels. "I heard about your…unfortunate brush with death on that _dreadful_ mountain peak. Simply awful business."

"Yes," he agreed absently, "it was."

"If there is _anything_ I can do to—"

"You can," Ketar interrupted sharply, turning on the jester. "You can keep doing your job and actively try to avoid harassing or irritating any of your brothers or sisters."

Cicero blinked up at him owlishly. "…that's all?"

He shrugged. "That's it. Very simple, very uncomplicated. And you should know—you've been doing it all your life." He put a hand on the Keeper's shoulder. "Which means you're _very_ good at it. That's why I chose you for the job, remember?"

"O-Of course."

He patted Cicero's shoulder. "Then grab some food and relax. I'll take care of Mother for now."

"Of course, Listener," he intoned with a deep bow.

Ketar waited until Cicero was gone before pulling back his hood and turning toward the black, grotesquely carved sarcophagus. His palm pressed against a hand sigil on its front, the magical surface shifting to fit his fingers as it clicked and released its lock. The sarcophagus creaked open a moment later, and he was treated to a glimpse of a rotted, almost skeletal corpse for just a moment before darkness overcame all of his vision. The black void swirled and roiled around him, eventually narrowing to the sight of a deceptively young Dunmer woman clad in robes of pure darkness.

Her blood-red lips turned upward in an all-knowing smile. "You've been busy in your absence, Listener."

Ketar chewed his lower lip in mild irritation. "Yes, Mother…circumstances have arisen that mandated such an extended period of leave."

"Oh, please, save me the excuses, boy." She didn't sound angry. More like a mother laughing at the antics of a particularly willful child…which he supposed he was. "We both know you were never particularly favorable toward this arrangement."

A small shock of relief surged through him at her words, which gave him just enough hutzpah to cross his arms with a great deal of snark. "Well, I've never exactly been a fan of cults. _Especially_ not ones that require me to talk to the corpse of a thousand-year-old dead woman."

Far from affronted, the Night Mother chuckled gamely. "Ironic, considering your current choice of company."

Stiffening, Ketar rolled his eyes and sighed. "What _is_ it with Serana and the people in my life? You know what? Don't answer that. You called me here for a reason, I expect. Another target?"

She certainly looked like she wanted to press him on Serana, but answered his second question instead. "Indeed. One who I believe you'll _approve_ of destroying. Calunor Esaran, the Thalmor official responsible for setting that hunting party on your trail."

Ketar perked up immediately. "Why did he do that? Why are they taking such a sudden new interest in me?"

"I suppose you'll have to ask him yourself, Listener."

He frowned and chewed it over for a while. "No."

She arched an eyebrow. "No?"

His head shook. "No," he reaffirmed. "I have to stay focused on the Dawnguard. If Harkon succeeds in what he has planned…I don't even want to _think_ about the consequences. I'll put Babette on it. She's one of my most experienced assassins. It should be no trouble at all for her."

To his surprise, Mother smiled approvingly. "It is a wise leader who knows when to delegate to others when _your_ focus should be elsewhere. And who to trust. But be careful that doing so does not cause you to overlook something important because you are too focused on something else."

Ketar's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She smiled enigmatically. "You'll see."

Before he could say another word of question or protest, the darkness flared up, then receded entirely, and when his vision cleared, he was back in the coffin chamber with the sarcophagus now sealed. A deep sigh came from his lips as he turned for the exit and left the chamber without another word.

…

" _This_ is his tower?"

"I know! It's _amazing_ , isn't it?"

Serana nodded her agreement to the shorter Dunmer girl currently escorting her and Agmaer around. Nazir had taken his leave of them as soon as they were within the gates of the College, stating that his "Listener" had instructed him to escort them there, not babysit. The rest of the College's denizens were…agreeable enough, once they heard the pair were friends of Ketar. But this Brelyna girl… _she_ was a real treat. Speaking of which…

"So," Agmaer said, "if you don't mind me asking, how did you and the uh, Arch-Mage meet?"

Brelyna chuckled. "Not at all. To be honest, it was…a bit embarrassing. All my life, the people around me had constantly pestered me with questions about my Elven heritage and connection to magic, so when he came up to me with this inquisitive look on his face…"

Serana grinned. "I know the one."

She smiled back. "I sort of assumed he'd be the same way. So, I went on a bit of a rant that…well, I said it was embarrassing. He just laughed it off, shook my hand, and introduced himself. We've been friends ever since. Even lab partners. Although—" her cheeks went dark purple, "—that particular episode is…not one I ever plan to speak of again."

Agmaer grinned. "Another embarrassing tale?"

Brelyna groaned and laid her head in her hands. "Yes. Too embarrassing for words. Even _he_ never wanted to bring it up again…though that might've been more for _my_ sake than his. Because…well…he's kind like that."

"Yes," Serana agreed absently, "he is."

Her attention was fixated on a crystalline, ellipsoid container hovering twenty feet above the center of the Arch-Mage's chambers.

With a staff suspended inside.

The staff possessed an ornate, patterned shaft and two aquamarine-colored gemstones of different sizes fixed at either end. It turned slowly, endlessly within its container as she stared at it.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Serana hummed her agreement with Brelyna.

"That's the Staff of Magnus, one of the most powerful magical weapons in all of Tamriel."

She looked back at the Dunmer. "And he just…leaves it out?"

Brelyna chuckled. "Dear," she pointed at the container, "that is not out. _That_ is what's known as a 'perfect gem.' A—"

"A magical barrier tied to the existence and structure of a smaller, enchanted gemstone," Serana interrupted, turning back to the staff. "I've never seen one so condensed."

"Ketar's a bit of a wizard—no pun intended—when it comes to Alteration and Destruction magic. He's certainly…proficient in the other schools of magic, but those two are most certainly his specialty. Well, that and enchanting, but even then he focuses more on Destruction and Alteration enchantments."

"I see."

The room fell silent as the two guests busied themselves with looking over his collection of rare magical artifacts. One in particular caught Serana's eye, a black, star-shaped object under an enchanted lock.

She tapped the glass to get Brelyna's attention. "What's this one?"

The Dunmer girl strode over and frowned. "Hmm…not sure. It looks a bit like Azura's Star, but…"

"Darker," Serana finished.

"Hm," she replied with a nod.

Serana's head started spinning as the full implications of what she was seeing unfolded in her mind. The Staff of Magnus, plasma magic, a supreme command of the Voice, and now at least _two_ Daedric artifacts she knew of (three, if she counted Nocturnal's Embrace). Suffice to say, the dearth of knowledge she had with regard to Ketar was becoming more and more unsettling by the minute.

…

"Babette—thought I might find you here."

The little vampire "girl" opened her jaws and straightened up from the recruit she'd just been feeding on, wiping her forearm across her mouth and giving Ketar a slightly bloody grin. "Ketty!" She barreled into his chest with a bone-crushing hug. " _So_ good to see you again."

Ketar burned completely red, as he always did whenever she did this. "Uh…yeah. Sure. You too."

She pulled away to grin up at him. "Don't be such a stiff," she said with a flick of his forehead.

Ketar winced when her action actually produced a sharp sting. "I wouldn't _have_ to be if you would just act your age for once. _One_ of us has to be the responsible one."

"Eh," she waved dismissively, "growing up is so dull. Who wouldn't _love_ to be a kid forever? Hm? All these adult problems you constantly have to deal with…they're taking a toll on you." She flashed her fangs. "I can tell. Just took one whiff of your blood, and I could practically _smell_ the stress."

Ketar gave her a deadpan glare. "I'm _fine_. Seriously. Now can we get down to business? I have a job for you."

Babette's glowing eyes immediately brightened up. "Oh? Do tell."

"There's a Thalmor leech based somewhere in the Reach, goes by the name Calunor Esaran. I need him dead, but first I need you to find out why he sent a team of soldiers to blow up my house."

Her eyes went wide in alarm. "Oh, _Ketty_ —were you hurt?"

He sighed. "Not too badly. I had help. But I need to know why they're after me. All this time and nothing. So why now?"

She nodded. "I understand completely. Don't you worry, Ketty. I'll take care of _everything_."

He gave her a pained smile. "I'm certain you will. But you better hurry. This job is a bit…time-sensitive."

"Always is. Now if you'll excuse me, I still need some alone time with my latest meal." She flashed him a wink as she dragged off the half-asleep recruit toward a back room.

Ketar just stared at her exit with a mildly exasperated expression, the same kind of sigh that he released a moment later. He spotted a recruit cautiously approaching him with a downright sycophantic expression on his face and stopped him with a glare. "Don't even think about it."

And with that, he left the Sanctuary.

…

By midnight of the first day, Serana was starting to get anxious. Especially since unlike Agmaer, she didn't currently have the luxury of sleeping, so was left with nothing to do but read and think. After a small…demonstration of her abilities, Urag Gro-Shub, the Orc curator of the College's Arcaneum, agreed to lend her use of the library so long as she remained supervised. She agreed, of course, and set about researching anything pertaining to Daedric artifacts, particularly with regard to soul gems and necromancy. Seeing as how the latter was her area of expertise, she already knew a great deal of what the authors were talking about. One book, however, held and kept her attention after she remembered what Brelyna said about Azura's Star.

Apparently, if a certain ritual were performed on a fractured Azura's Star, it would create something else entirely: a Black Star, a powerful, unbreakable necromantic soul gem capable of housing the souls of both creatures and mortals. How on Nirn Ketar got his hands on one was anyone's guess, but the fact that it was currently not with him and instead under lock and key—along with many other practically useful items—said that he was probably uncomfortable with using it. Serana frowned.

 _Would that also mean he's uncomfortable with my skills as a necromancer? I mean…he never showed any concern before…_

Suddenly, her mind snapped back to something he'd said.

 _"Just because I don't want to change what I am doesn't mean I look down on those who are different."_

Still, her frown persisted.

 _The world just_ doesn't _work that way. He has to understand that, right?_

"Hey!"

Serana's head snapped to the irritable Orc speaker.

"You tear one of those pages, I will send you to _personally_ find me a new copy."

She blinked and looked down to see that her grip around one of said pages was tightening, quickly releasing it and muttering an apology as she closed and returned it. The way back up to the Arch-Mage's tower was filled with more endless thoughts.

 _He's young, but not innocent. He_ couldn't _have kept his innocence with eyes like that. And he may have grown up in a monastery, far-removed from the rest of Tamriel, but he's been in the world more than long enough for that childish naïveté to have vanished._

She arrived in Ketar's chambers, frowning at Agmaer snoring on a nearby couch.

 _So…how does he stay so impartial? Is it just an act, to make people feel better around him? So they'll trust him more?_

Absently, a hand came up to her hair and started twirling one lock of it around her index finger.

 _Or is that something he just_ chooses _to hold onto? Lydia_ did _say he was little more than a kid, forced to grow up too fast._

She looked toward the Staff of Magnus, at the incredible security case he'd created for it, and felt a smile tug at her lips.

 _Maybe…maybe that's not such a bad thing. When you're a kid, you don't see all those differences and distinctions. Prejudice isn't something you're born with. It's something you_ learn _. And somehow, he didn't._

Her smile widened at the sight of Agmaer slightly drooling on what were no doubt expensive cushions.

 _So maybe, right now…a kid is_ exactly _what Skyrim needs._

…

Serana, of course, was the first to welcome Ketar back to their party the following morning. Agmaer awoke with a start and half-delirious rant about cheese. That got Ketar to stop for a second before forcibly dumping him on the floor of the tower. _That_ woke him up _right_ quick, much to his grumbling displeasure. Ketar just smirked and insisted that they had to get a move on back to Fort Dawnguard, as he'd apparently received a message from Isran about an impending operation. They did so after a brief breakfast, though Agmaer was sleepily grumbling about it the whole way to the stables. Speaking of sleep…

One quick glance was enough to tell Serana that he hadn't slept well lately either. By the darkness of the circles under his eyes, probably not for a couple of days. Not since the Thalmor attacked Windstad…maybe even before. If it was the former, she certainly understood the why. Being assaulted in your own home, even if he _had_ seen it coming…not something that tends to make one sleep well at night. Point of fact, it was the kind of thing she had seen make her father downright _paranoid_. But, as he would use to say, "It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you." In Ketar's defense, the deprivation didn't really seem to affect his combat or mental abilities, but still. If even _half_ the stories about him were true, he could probably go a _week_ without sleeping and hardly slow a step.

That didn't mean it was pleasant.

Point of fact, apart from a few scattered smirks and chuckles, his face had pretty much been twisted into a permanent frown. Though whether that was because of his exhaustion or whatever he went away for was anyone's guess. Whatever the case, there wasn't a lot of chatter between Winterhold and Dayspring Canyon. Apparently, the visit to the College yesterday had been as thought-provoking for Agmaer as it had been for Serana. The vampire had to wonder what was going through the young Nord's head. On approach to the fort, Serana found she couldn't keep her questions to herself any longer.

"Septim for your thoughts?"

Agmaer and Ketar both turned to her, but the latter turned back forward when he realized who she was talking to.

"Um," Agmaer stammered, "well, I suppose I'm just thinking about home. What'll happen to them…if we fail against Harkon."

Serana opened her mouth, but Ketar beat her to it.

"Thinking about worst-case scenarios _never_ helps. Trust me. Just…" he frowned, "know what you have to lose and let it drive you to win."

Agmaer's jaw tightened as he gave the other man a nod. Serana gave him a reassuring smile that he returned with a small blush. And with that, they ran out of time for small-talk, as Ketar dismounted and began hitching Stormbreaker to a nearby palisade. Serana and Agmaer joined him going up the steps and proceeded inside to find a veritable hive's-worth of activity going on. So much so that they actually stopped and began staring. While there had been barely half a dozen Dawnguard in this place when they'd left, there were now numerous armored bodies bustling about, sharpening weapons, practicing with crossbows, sparring practice—the deserted dwelling had turned into a living organism almost overnight.

Ketar spotted Gunmar in the middle of this maelstrom and quickly flagged him down. "What the hell happened?"

The big Nord grinned. "Florentius happened. That old kook might be a little off in the head, but he certainly knows how to make friends better than any of us. Took a little convincing, but he reached out to his many contacts across Skyrim—city guards, Imperial soldiers, and the like. As luck would have it, _all_ of them answered the call of the Dawnguard."

"About time we started evening the odds," Agmaer cheered.

Ketar nodded in agreement. "Now what about this 'operation' Isran mentioned?"

Gunmar nodded toward the back. "You'd best go see him about it."

Ketar frowned and nodded, heading for Isran and catching him in the middle of ordering about some new faces. "Isran," he called. "What's going on?"

The Redguard looked back at him and nodded toward a nearby room. "We got word about a vampire cell out west in the Reach. I'm putting a team together to bring it down, and I want you on it."

"What do we know?"

"They're dug in deep, apparently. A large village built into the mountains at a critical crossroads; it's practically wrapped around their finger. Gunmar thinks it's a major source of their funding, seeing as how so many trade routes pass through there. We eliminate that cell, and there's a good chance we could start to restrict their operations all across Skyrim."

Ketar nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Also, with this new influx of manpower, is there any chance you could get some of them to look for that last Elder Scroll? For some _incomprehensible_ reason, my people haven't been having much luck."

Isran immediately frowned. "Yeah…about that. There's been a bit of a snag."

The Dragonborn's blood went cold.

"What do you mean?" Serana asked worriedly.

Isran's lips pursed tighter as he nodded toward a corridor. "Follow me."

A few moments passed before they were back in the room where they'd waited for Dexion to wake up, once again looking down at his horizontal body facing away from them.

Ketar looked to Dexion, then to the leader of the Dawnguard at his side. "Isran…" His eyes widened in horror when the Priest slowly turned toward them, revealing the blindfold over his eyes. "What happened?"

Dexion sighed mournfully. "It's my fault. In my haste to read the first Scroll, I neglected the careful preparation required. I thought I'd be able to allay the after effects, but I was wrong. Now I'm paying for it."

"And…the covering?" Agmaer asked in concern. "Does that mean you're—"

"Blind? Yes, I'm afraid so."

Serana exchanged a brief look with Ketar before he turned back to the Priest. "I know a bit about Restoration magic. I'm no expert, but I could—"

Dexion stopped him with a hand. "No. It'll have to run its course, and there's always the chance I may never recover. I'm afraid this is merely a side effect of the Scrolls; it happens even to the most seasoned of masters eventually."

"Then…we're finished," Serana said in a near-whisper.

The wizened man's head turned in her direction. "Not necessarily. The question is, how much are you willing to risk to find Auriel's Bow?"

Ketar and Serana exchanged another look before he answered. "What do I need to do?"

"I'm afraid I can't guarantee you'll be safe from the side effects. Becoming blind could be the _least_ of your worries."

The Dragonborn snorted a laugh. "It wouldn't be the first time I've tempted fate, and not even in this particular regard."

Dexion's head tilted slightly. "Oh?"

Ketar's lips pursed. "Remember the second Scroll I brought? I read it without any preparation, at the Throat of the World." He frowned harder. "It was…enlightening."

Dexion sat up perfectly straight. "And there were no adverse aftereffects?"

"Apart from some pretty significant disorientation and a brief period of hazy vision, no."

"An untrained layman glimpsing the depths of an Elder Scroll and walking away unscathed. Simply fascinating!"

Ketar arched an eyebrow and snorted. "I didn't walk away unscathed, but that wasn't the Scroll's fault." Without explaining, he continued. "I think it might have something to do with my dragon blood. Considering Akatosh's connection to time, it might allow me interact with the Scrolls on a much less forced level."

"That is a plausible explanation," the Priest admitted, "but still, precautions should be made. Especially so since you'll be dealing with the power of not just one, but _three_ Elder Scrolls."

"Agreed," Ketar said with a nod. "So, how do I do this?"

"Scattered across Tamriel are secluded locations known only as Ancestor Glades. There's one in Skyrim, in the Pine Forest. Performing the Ritual of the Ancestor Moth within the glade should provide the answers you seek. It involves carefully removing the bark from the Canticle Tree which will in turn attract Ancestor Moths to you. Once enough of the moths are following, they'll provide you with the second sight needed to decipher the scrolls."

" _Carefully_ removing bark? How do you propose I do that, with a nail-file?"

Dexion chuckled. "In keeping with tradition, you must use a specific tool in the Ancestor Glade, an implement known as a Draw Knife. Every Moth Priest is taught this ritual, but few ever get the chance to perform it...you should consider yourself fortunate if it works for you." He smirked. "Or, blessed by the gods, as the case may be."

Ketar gave him a wan smile. "There are times when I think the gods and I have vastly different priorities." His face became serious again. "Is there any particular order I should read them in?"

"Hm. From what I saw in the vision, the Elder Scroll which foreshadows the defiance of the gods with the blood of mortals is the key to the prophecy. But all three are necessary, and from your tone, I surmise you haven't yet found the third."

"We haven't," Serana confirmed, giving Ketar a sideways smirk. "Apparently, Mr. Dov's criminal network isn't as _extensive_ as he let on."

Ketar nearly choked on air. "Who said they were criminals?"

Serana just shot him a knowing look while Dexion chuckled and Isran and Agmaer just stared at them like they were crazy.

"At any rate," Isran interrupted, "I'll see if any of my old contacts know of another Elder Scroll popping up somewhere. In the meantime, we should deal with this vampire mess in the Reach."

Ketar frowned and nodded. "Agreed."

"Do we know the name of whoever's running this particular cell?" Serana asked a little tensely.

Isran shot her a look. "No. Does it matter?"

She frowned and shifted in place. "No…I just suddenly have a really bad feeling."

The Redguard snorted. "The Dawnguard doesn't operate based on your 'feelings,' girl." He turned to Ketar. "You'll be there?"

Ketar nodded firmly. "We have your back. Right Agmaer?"

"Right," the Nord answered without hesitation.

Isran gave them all one last curt nod, eyes lingering suspiciously on Serana as they always did, before exiting the room, the others starting to follow him out.

"Lord Dov, hold a moment," said Dexion.

He stopped in his tracks and exchanged a look with Serana and Agmaer before nodding them onward. Ketar made his way to Dexion's bedside and knelt in front of him, the old man's head facing him directly despite having no vision. The Priest reached out and gripped him by the sides of his neck and jaw, lips pursed in focus, while Ketar just stared at him in confusion. Dexion's frown deepened for a moment before he hummed and released him.

"Interesting," he said softly.

Ketar blinked twice. "What is?"

"Though robbed of my sight, the cause allows me to _see_ the echo of the Scroll you read. And the events that transpired immediately afterward."

Ketar felt a chill run through his blood, voice going terse. "So?"

Dexion's blindfold stared him directly in the eyes. "The pain you carry with you…is clear enough for a blind man to see. As is your doubt."

He sighed and stood up abruptly. "Dexion, please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm _really_ not in the mood for any mystical bullshit, so if you don't mind—"

"You lied to me earlier."

"…excuse me?"

Dexion's lips pursed. "You don't doubt the gods, and in particular not your father. You doubt yourself, and the faith they've placed in you. You feel…inadequate."

Ketar stared at him, his lips falling open with rising unease and no small amount of anxiety.

"It's a concern that only you seem to bear. Your _companions_ certainly don't. Even my abrasive Redguard host believes in your abilities. Until you do as well, that doubt and uncertainty will continually hold you back from your true potential."

The Last Dragonborn looked down at him, suddenly feeling for all the world like a child being lectured, then frowned and turned for the exit, his reply dark and barely loud enough to hear.

"I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

AN: I am so, so, _SO_ sorry for how long this chapter took. It's been a hell of a crazy month for me with finals and job searches and interviews and moving and—suffice to say, I've been a little preoccupied. I actually finished most of this chapter _weeks_ ago, but for all my resolve to finish, I couldn't seem to put one finger in front of the other and power through it. PLEASE forgive me for taking so long. I've been distracted by a lot of things, including reviving ideas for an old dream story I came up with back in high school (TRON—it's gonna be awesome) and having some of my fans and family beta read the first few chapters I pounded out.

Honestly, I'm just going with wherever my inspiration leads me. It's been so long since I've had to flow to really _write_ that I don't want to limit my reach to just one story if my muse pulls me in another direction. I don't want to hit another dry spell, is what I mean to say, so I'm doing my best to keep my writing chops sharp and momentum going so I don't feel like I'm wasting my days again. Seriously, if I don't write _something_ by the end of the day, I often feel like I haven't accomplished a thing.

Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter and some of the other gaps that are starting to be filled in. More to come soon, I hope. I'll try to get started on the next chapter ASAP.

In the meantime, read and review and recommend this story to your friends!

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - The Hunt is Coming: Ketar vs. Ulfric/shaking the Palace of the Kings

Dragon translations:

" _Zu fen ni kos uth naal aan munax vith_!" - I will not be commanded by a cruel snake!

" _Unt daar fen, zu fen kos hin al_!"- Try this again, and I will become your destroyer!


	8. Preemptive Strike

Ketar was troubled by whatever Dexion had told him. That much was clear to Serana.

It might not have been apparent to Agmaer or any of the other Dawnguard, but it was to her, mainly because her senses were overclocked and she'd spent the majority of her time around him since waking up. That and all the fighting her parents had done in her childhood had taught her to pick up on sudden shifts of emotion quickly. Seeing as how they were in the center of the Dawnguard's headquarters with all the action and extra ears that entailed, Serana wisely decided not to comment on it. At least, not until they were leaving the fort.

"Ketar?" she asked softly.

"Hm?" he replied absently as he gripped Stormbreaker's saddle.

"Mind if I ride with you this time?"

His stormy blue eyes turned to Serana, flickering to Agmaer's mildly disappointed expression before settling back on her. "Sure."

She smiled gratefully and accepted his help into the saddle, pulling up her hood while Ketar mounted up in front of her. Checking to make sure she was secure, he cast Agmaer a nod before spurring his mount into motion, the two horses getting a bit of distance between each other. When she thought they were far enough out of Agmaer's hearing, Serana spoke.

"You okay?"

Ketar stiffened for a brief moment. "Fine. Why do you ask?"

"Because you seem a little tense…and jumpy."

He sighed softly. "It's nothing."

Serana just hummed, her disbelief clear enough but resigning herself to the silent treatment.

"Just..."

She blinked at his unexpected speech.

"It's something Dexion said."

"I figured that much," she said carefully. When he was silent a while, she added, "You don't need to tell me more if you don't want to."

Ketar turned his gaze back to her and smiled a little. "I appreciate that, but…this isn't really a question I can answer on my own. Or by asking Lydia." He snorted a laugh. "She isn't exactly objective when it comes to me."

Serana chuckled warmly. "I've noticed." Her smile faded to a reassuring curve. "Ask away."

He frowned, eyes darting about uneasily for a few seconds. "Do I seem…hesitant to you? Uncertain?"

Her orange eyes widened as a startled, "What?" escaped her mouth before she could think about it.

"Do I seem doubtful? Of myself, I mean."

Serana outright _gaped_ at him, so wide that the edges of her fangs just started to prick into the inside of her upper lip. "Are you _kidding_ me?" She snorted a laugh. "Ketar, you have to be one of the most self-assured, confident people I've known in a _long_ time. Where in Oblivion did you get _that_ idea?"

A dark, unsettled look passed over his eyes for the briefest of moments before he forced his familiar grin on. "That's what I thought."

He turned back forward a moment later, preventing Serana from gauging his expression further even as her own started to fall. Her eyes widened once more as she was suddenly reminded of Lydia's words to her.

 _"…lest you forget because of his skills or power, he_ is _little more than a boy. Scarred and jaded and forced to grow up far too fast, but still a boy. He still has hurts and hopes and insecurities."_

He hadn't thought she'd been listening in Jorrvaskr, during his conversation with Vilkas, but the inebriated man ineptly trying to flirt with her had just been _so_ unimpressive.

 _"…you can't blame me for being worried. The last couple of months, you've practically been a ghost. Not coming around the hall, shirking duties from the Jarl, isolating yourself in that house. You didn't always use to be so reclusive, brother."_

Her mind kept rushing with even more recent words, _his_ this time.

 _"Remember the second Scroll I brought? I read it without any preparation, at the Throat of the World…I didn't walk away unscathed, but that wasn't the Scroll's fault."_

His voice…Serana hadn't noticed it before because she hadn't been looking, but now, with that question, she had to wonder…

 _What the hell happened at the Throat of the World?_

…

Halfway to the target village, Ketar knew something was wrong. First off, it was just after sunset, so his instincts were on overdrive and making him uneasy in trying to compensate for the sudden lack of visibility. Second, he could feel Serana tense at his back—which she only did when she was at the alert for one reason or another. Finally, there was rustling in the bushes, which was _rarely_ a good sign, so he brought their horses to a stop with a clenched right fist, then used that hand to draw his sword and dismounted his horse. Serana also leapt off and drew her Elven dagger, Agmaer staying mounted with his crossbow for a better vantage point as Ketar summoned a floating light with magic.

The Dragonborn made it halfway to the bushes before a small figure in full red-black clothing emerged, the red even deeper because it was stained with fresh blood. Ketar's eyes widened in recognition when he realized Serana was about to lunge forward.

"Wait! Stop!"

The vampire froze in her tracks and cast him a questioning look.

Ketar ignored her for the moment and approached the bleeding figure lying prone at his feet, immediately sheathing his sword. "Hey. Hang on, Babs." He crouched down and gently rolled them face-up, cradling their upper body and head in one arm while his other gingerly removed the cowl over their features. "Where are you hurt? Come on, talk to me."

Ketar caught Serana's surprised expression and Agmaer's outright gape at the child-like features that greeted them from behind the mask.

Babette smiled at him with bloody teeth—her blood. "Hey, Ketty. Been a while."

"Not nearly long enough for me to find you like _this_ ," he countered in concern. "What in Oblivion happened?"

Babette grimaced and helped him unlace the leather strips holding her Shrouded Armor together, allowing him to see the deep gouges carved into the bloody tunic underneath. "Oh, you know. Followed my orders, things went a little sideways. Same old."

Ketar's response was nothing less than scolding. "Stop being _flip_ with me and explain what happened."

She cast Serana a brief glance, one that the much older vampire returned, before settling her gaze back on Ketar. "That Thalmor agent you sent me after? He wasn't working for the Thalmor."

"…what?"

Her glowing eyes rolled. "What I mean is, he didn't send that kill team after you because of the Thalmor." Her lips pursed as she cast Serana another glance. "He's a vampire collaborator."

Ketar froze. "What?"

"Turns out an Altmer vampire paid him off to hunt you down, as well as curry favor with local businesses. I took him out, but…the vampires took exception to that, so…here I am." Babette hissed in pain as Ketar tried to apply magic to one of her injuries. "Would you _stop_ that? It's all itchy. And it doesn't do a thing for me. Already dead, remember?"

Ketar's lips pursed tightly. "Would feeding help?"

Babette's face _instantly_ brightened in an almost innocent, childlike manner. "Oh, _can I_?"

His eyes rolled, but he nodded his assent and exposed his right wrist, noting with some intrigue that Serana's expression had shifted from curious to downright irritated. Shifting his attention back to Babette, he watched dispassionately as she licked her lips excitedly, then gently dug into his arm with her two top fangs. A sudden wave of dizziness came over him as she began to feed, happy noises coming from her throat as he was left with nothing but his thoughts.

Suddenly, Ketar's blue eyes widened. "Wait…where did you end up finding Esaran?"

Babette stopped feeding for a moment to detach herself and lick her fangs and lips clean. "Big village. Mountainside. Couple hours west of here."

"Oh Akatosh," he breathed in horror, glancing back to see Agmaer and Serana giving him similar looks.

"Isran," Agmaer said in an alarmed whisper.

Ketar quickly turned back to Babette, who had resumed feeding. "What state were the vampires in when you left them? Had they raised the alarm or were they satisfied that you were beaten?"

With an annoyed expression on her face, Babette unlatched herself from his wrist. "I didn't look for very long, but they certainly didn't look anywhere in the vicinity of satisfied. Point of fact, they looked a bit—" her teeth glinted with a feral glance toward the very human Agmaer, "—out for blood."

Ketar's eyes narrowed dangerously as he began healing his wrist and putting it back in his glove, much to Babette's vocal protest. "You've had _more_ than enough," he half-whined, which she accepted with a disgruntled groan.

Babette also shot an exceedingly and _unusually_ self-satisfied look at Serana, which got the other, older vampire to return a proper, almost violent _glare_ at the girl. Ketar didn't have time to wonder at it before Babette licked her lips in a showy manner and gathered herself up, lacing the Shrouded Armor back together.

"Well," she drawled in her usual falsely innocent tone, "I'm off for home. Do let me know how it goes, Ketty dear." Babette sauntered off with her index dragging across and off his chin.

By the time Ketar had sufficiently rolled his eyes enough and regained his footing, he could practically _feel_ the heat of Serana's deadly glare following a cackling Babette from the scene. He caught sight of her face just for a moment, long enough to register a vision that would forever be seared into his mind alongside the picture of that woman tearing the head off a gargoyle barehanded.

Serana, orange eyes burning and upper lip curled in just enough of a snarl to show her fangs.

That expression (which was equal parts terrifying and…something else he couldn't name) quickly faded from her face when the moment ended, melting into her usual neutral expression. She actually seemed _bored_ , but as Ketar had learned to do over time, he could tell the expression was forced. Still, he refused to comment on it and instead turned back to his horse to deal with more pressing matters.

"We need to get moving, _now_ ," Ketar practically growled as he stormed over to Stormbreaker. "Isran doesn't know what he's walking into."

His hand went out to help Serana into his saddle, but she just snorted derisively and leapt onto Stormbreaker's back in one jump. Black eyebrow going skyward, Ketar shrugged and mounted the horse, spurring it into a charge with a shout.

…

By the time they arrived in Jerall Point, one good look at the town was enough to realize they were too late. Their little detour with Babette had stalled them long enough to give the Dawnguard a head start, and though no open violence had broken out just yet, all it took was a glance at the overly suspicious townspeople to realize the village was on a hair trigger. Ketar had to wonder how many of them were thralls. It wasn't difficult to find Isran and his people, considering they were going door to door and practically interrogating the populace on the whereabouts of the vampires.

He could've rolled his eyes if he wasn't so intent on warning Isran before—

Before _that_.

A feminine screech came from a nearby alleyway, catching the attention of Ketar's party and the rest of the Dawnguard. They assembled and sprinted toward the source, an unsettling feeling stirring in Ketar's gut the closer they got to the alley. He exchanged a glance with Serana, who had the same wary expression on her features. When they finally reached the alley's mouth, two Dawnguard he didn't recognize were flanking either side of the entrance, staring at a robed vampire with a woman bent over his knee, his fangs deep in her neck. The fiend slowly released her neck and looked up at them, bloodied teeth glinting in the pale moonlight shining through.

The Dawnguard brandished runed axes and began proceeding into the alley when Serana stepped forward, alarm lacing her voice.

"No, wait!"

Ketar was about to ask her why when he spotted something…off about the woman the vampire was holding. Specifically, that the two pinhole-sized puncture marks in her neck had already vanished.

"Down!" Ketar yelled as Serana lunged forward.

The ancient vampire intercepted the woman before she got halfway to the others, a palm to the chest stopping her in her tracks and actually flipping her backwards midair. Serana's Elven dagger plunged into her heart a moment later, the male vampire snarling in rage and charging only to get a steel-tipped bolt between the eyes from Agmaer. A fully-armored Dawnguard to Ketar's left lunged forward and lopped his head off with an axe, both vampires dusting moments after the scuffle began. Ketar's right hand went to the hilt of his sword in readiness, the blade clearing its sheath a moment later when someone (Gunmar, he thought), yelled, "Vampires!"

Serana, Agmaer, and Ketar ran from the alley, the latter twirling his sword and charging toward a cluster of Dawnguard running off with Isran himself at their head. When the Dawnguard leader spotted them, his furious countenance alternated looking between Ketar and Serana, eyes flashing with fire.

"They knew we were coming!" Isran roared, brandishing his warhammer and charging off. "Gunmar, take the west side! Florentius, Sorine—the east! Take two fighters each! The rest of you, on me!"

Ketar was about to follow behind Isran when Serana caught his arm and stopped him. He looked back at her in question to see an alarmed look in her eyes.

"Serana?"

"This…this is all wrong," she answered barely above a whisper.

"Serana," Ketar interrupted firmly, grabbing her by the shoulders, " _talk_ to me."

Her sunset-colored eyes sharpened. "This setup—I've seen it before. An entire town, either subjugated or turned and when discovered, burned to cover for its leader's escape."

"Leader?" Agmaer asked in confusion. "What leader?"

Serana frowned deeply, looking around. "Vingalmo." She nodded at Ketar. "He's one of my father's top lieutenants, an Altmer vampire gifted in the art of manipulation and strategy. And he's been doing this for _centuries_. Your friends are playing right into his hands."

"Then what do we do?" Ketar asked her.

She wiped her dagger on her already blood-red cloak and flashed her fangs. "We go in the opposite direction of the rest."

Ketar gave the rest of the Dawnguard a passing glance before giving Serana a nod. "Lead the way."

Agmaer and Ketar followed Serana's steps with some difficulty, given the unnatural speed her sense of urgency was lending to them. After a series of twists and turns throughout the deserted streets of Jerall Point, a downhill path that brought them further and further from the mountain's peak, Serana came to a stop at a crossroads. The vampire sniffed the air several times, glowing eyes narrowing before she whirled around to face them.

"We need to split up. You and Agmaer go right, I'll go left."

Ketar frowned. "You sure that's wise? After all, we won't exactly know what we're looking for."

Serana nodded firmly. "Trust me. And watch your backs. Vingalmo is as slippery as they come."

"Be careful, Lady Serana," said Agmaer.

She returned a small smile. "I will." Her eyes turned to Ketar and lingered on his face for a few moments, her neck-length raven hair blowing and waving in the mountain wind. "Good luck, Kay."

He blinked and nodded, feeling heat and that uncomfortable feeling in his chest go throughout his body until she turned and left. As Ketar motioned for Agmaer to stay tight on his back, his mind started to wander against his will, to a conversation with Lydia right before they'd gone to bed the night after the attack on Windstad…

…

 _Several knocks on the door of the guest room pulled Lydia from the act of polishing her shield, an act that would keep the Spellbreaker's refractors sharp and able to project its integrated magic ward._

 _"Come in," she said softly. By the look on her face, she'd been expecting a different black-haired figure than the one who shyly entered her temporary sleeping quarters. "Lord Dov…I didn't expect you to still be awake."_

 _He glanced over his shoulder at the gouges in Windstad Manor, catching a glimpse of red cloak before closing the door behind him. "Yeah, well…couldn't sleep."_

 _Lydia waved him over to a chair next to the bed, giving Spellbreaker one last once-over before collapsing it into its storage mode and laying it on her night-table. "Adrenaline? Or something on your mind?"_

 _"I…" he frowned, expression wavering, "I don't know. I don't think it's any one thing, really."_

 _"Well, there_ is _a lot on your plate."_

 _He snorted a laugh. "You can say_ that _again. It's my second week back out there, and I've already run afoul of the Thalmor and an ancient sect of vampires. Not to mention my_ many _preexisting enemies."_

 _Lydia reached out and placed a hand on his. "How are you holding up?"_

 _Ketar smiled and looked up at her. "I'm okay. Better than I expected to be, I think. I think a part of me assumed I'd be starting back from square one, after such a long time out of the game, but…it's like riding a horse." A snort. "A really,_ really _dangerous horse."_

 _Lydia smirked. "Barely a few days back in and you've already had as many near-death experiences."_

" _Dragonborn's lot in life, I'm afraid."_

 _Her smile faded slowly. "I wish it weren't so."_

 _Ketar laughed. "You're not the one who has to live it."_

 _Lydia shot him a look. "No, I'm just the one who has to watch."_

 _He stared at her for a few moments before sighing and looking off to the side._

" _There's…something else, isn't there?"_

 _A rueful smile came to his lips. "It really is no use trying to lie to you, isn't it?"_

 _Lydia smiled. "You've never been particularly good at it when it comes to me."_

 _He sighed, falling silent for a while. "It's Serana."_

 _She grinned. "Of course it is."_

 _His dark blue eyes rolled. "It's not what you think, Lydia. She's…I don't want to spill the details she's deigned to share with me, because I get the feeling it's intensely personal, but…we're alike, in a lot of ways. Her life, early, current…fate has not been kind. I feel for her."_

 _Lydia frowned in concentration and leaned toward him. "Go on."_

 _He looked around, eyes darting across the room as he spoke uncertainly. "I get the feeling that she's been shaped by her family in the worst of ways, but…she's trying to break free of all that, and I want to help. But…she's a vampire, and you know my history…"_

 _She frowned deeper and nodded._

 _Ketar ran a hand through his mussed hair and sighed again. "I don't really understand it, Lydia, but…when we met, when I saw her…I had her dead to rights. I could've taken her out, right then and there. And you know I usually reserve judgment, but…with everything that's happened, and knowing how important she was to the other vampires…a part of me_ wanted _to dust her."_

" _It's a defensive instinct, Ketar. Nothing to be ashamed of."_

" _Yes, only that part of me was so small and insignificant that I don't think I could've gone through with it even if she_ had _become aggressive. And the fact that she spoke to me after waking up…that she_ trusted _me…" He trailed off uncertainly._

 _Lydia's head cocked. "All right, I'm confused. What exactly are you saying? That you're concerned at your hesitation or feeling guilty about wanting to kill her?"_

" _Both…neither?" He breathed out hard and scrubbed his hands over his face. "I don't know. I'm exhausted and confused and I should probably have saved this conversation for the morning, but…this is the only time she'll be out of earshot."_

" _Okay, then stop, think, and choose your words carefully."_

 _Ketar nodded slowly, taking deep breaths. "I've had…feelings, lately."_

 _Lydia arched an eyebrow. "Feelings?"_

 _He nodded. "Strange, unfamiliar feelings. Things I don't know how to describe. When she opened her eyes, it was like…staring into an expanse of stars; wonderfully terrifying. And when I saw the way she moved, the way she fought; when I heard her speak…" He shuddered as his eyes widened in sudden horror. "Lydia, I've had vampires try to dominate my will before, and it's_ never _felt like this, but maybe she thought that my will was too strong for the direct method and decided to try the—"_

" _Whoa—whoa-whoa-whoa, hold up. You think she's trying to turn you into a thrall? Based on what?"_

 _Ketar shrugged wildly. "I don't know. Based on the fact that I'm feeling all kinds of strange fears and getting nervous at the oddest times." He scoffed. "And_ embarrassed _, of all things. You know me, Lydia. I don't_ get _embarrassed."_

 _Lydia bit down on her lower lip a bit as he kept ranting._

" _I find myself staring at her. Actually_ staring _, if you can believe it. I_ never _stare. And she's never outright called me on it, but I know she notices and just laughs it off. Like I'm some kind of amusing_ pet _."_

 _She bit her lip harder, shoulders starting to shake just a bit._

" _The way she carries herself, like immaculate royalty without even_ trying _, it's…unsettling, but…somehow pleasant. And, maybe it's because Isran just strikes me as a bigoted ass, but…I get…_ protective _of her whenever he's around. A woman I've known for barely a week, and a vampire to boot, and I'm protective of her."_

 _So distracted was Ketar, he failed to notice that the shake of Lydia's shoulders was unmistakable now, and she had one hand over her mouth to keep anything from escaping._

 _His face reddened as he voiced the next bit. "And…when she's not looking, and I am…I start having…urges. To…do…things. Things I'd never even_ considered _before." He finally looked up at his housecarl, who was covering the entire lower half of her face with one hand. "So, Lydia, tell me, do I really sound like myself right now?"_

 _It took her a while, about twenty to thirty seconds by Ketar's count, but she managed to rein in her emotions just enough to keep them to just a small smile when she finally responded. "Well, it sounds to me like…"_

 _He tipped his head toward her. "Like?"_

" _Like, at the ripe age of twenty…" Lydia grinned outright, "I do believe you just discovered your sex drive."_

 _Ketar stared at her blankly for about as long as it took for her to suppress her laughter. "Excuse me?"_

" _You heard what I said." She smiled and reached over to a mug of Black-Briar mead._

" _But—no. That…" He sighed and looked off to the side. "That doesn't make any sense, Lydia." His blue eyes locked on her with dead seriousness. "I've_ felt _physical desire before. It's strange and uncomfortable and nowhere_ near _this powerful."_

 _Lydia just chuckled. "Good. That means she's different."_

" _Different how?"_

 _Her head tilted as the mirth in her voice faded to an instructional tone. "Think back to what you told me. You feel for her, you empathize. You've treated her like she's special, and from what I understand, she's done the same for you in kind."_

" _But…that's what friends do."_

" _No, Ketar. That's what_ you _do. Friends, for most of us, are people you let in to a point, but no farther. But the people in_ your _life? Brynjolf, Brelyna…me, hell, even those Brotherhood hooligans you insist on keeping around—you treat us like_ family _."_

 _He frowned. "I…I guess it's all I know how to do."_

 _Lydia gripped his hand in two of hers. "And I'm not saying that's a bad thing. On the contrary, I believe if more people regarded their friends as you do, Tamriel would have a great deal less strife."_

" _But why her then? You, I was sort of stuck with. Brynjolf, Brelyna, the Brotherhood—them I all got to know over time. But Serana…Serana is different somehow."_

" _Yes, she is. What_ I'm _saying is…maybe that's not such a bad thing."_

 _Ketar frowned and stared off to the side._

 _"Ketar."_

 _He looked back to find her warm eyes staring back at him._

 _"You've told me in the past, and continue to tell others now: your instincts are what have kept you alive up to this point. And not_ once _have they ever been wrong. So tell me, has Serana ever caused your instincts to flare in warning?"_

 _"I..." he thought for a moment, "no. I don't think so."_

 _"Then why assume that these feelings mean danger?"_

 _"Because…" Ketar sighed hard. "Because they're new. And they scare me."_

 _Lydia smiled warmly. "Said every young man ever." She clasped his hands in hers tightly. "Don't run from it, Ketar. And don't worry. Your gods-given instincts haven't failed you yet. I doubt they'll start now. And if they do," she smiled wider, "I'll be right there to catch you. Promise."_

 _Ketar looked back at her for a while before embracing her tightly, eyes closing and lips spreading into a smile. "Where would I be without you?"_

 _Lydia chuckled into his neck. "Put it out of your mind, love. That's not gonna happen."_

 _He just nodded and pressed his face further into her shoulder._

…

"Ketar. Ketar!"

The Dragonborn snapped his attention to Agmaer, who'd been shouting his name for some time. "What?"

The Nord nodded and hefted his crossbow. "I thought I saw something on a rooftop that way."

Ketar frowned and raised his sword to his side, just below the shoulder, tip pointed outward as they proceeded forward. The torches and other lights of Jerall Point were a great deal dimmer there, leaving Ketar wary of each step he took. So much so that he took in a breath and channeled the power within.

" _Laas-Yah—_ "

A sharp cry from behind snapped his body into action, Ketar turning on his hip and angling his sword into the darkness, where he could see two silhouettes, the one on the bottom easily recognizable as Agmaer's armored form.

The Dragonborn snarled. "Let. Him. Go."

The shadowy form straddling Agmaer's immobile body slowly drew up to its full height—taller than Ketar—and stalked toward him. The dim light cast by nearby sconces revealed the shadow of an Altmer vampire with a toothy grin on his face that was outright _demented_. Ketar's grip tightened around his sword.

"Vingalmo, I presume?"

The vampire's glowing eyes flickered with surprise for a brief moment before he smiled wider. "I see my reputation has preceded me." He started pacing around Ketar as they entered a large crossroads area completely devoid of life. "And who, pray tell, are you?" His head cocked slightly, lips moving again before Ketar could answer. " _Oh_. _Now_ I remember."

As soon as he stepped a little further to the side, into the faint light of nearby sconces, so did Ketar. "You were the vampire who accosted me when I brought Serana back to Volkihar."

His smile widened. "Your memory serves you well. Though not, I think, well enough to remember Lord Harkon's ultimatum."

"Oh, my memory's fine." Ketar grinned viciously under his hood, flashing teeth in the dim torchlight. "I just don't answer to ultimatums."

Vingalmo shrugged. "Suit yourself, meat."

Without another word, in the blink of an eye, Vingalmo crossed half the distance between them, Ketar's blade already in a defensive position. Vingalmo's first strike was almost enough to wrench the ebony sword from his grip, but he'd tangled with enough inhumanly strong opponents to know how to counter this. Specifically, the moment he felt his grip loosening, he released the blade with one hand and caught it with the other to bring it around in a cross-cut from the opposite side. His counter-strike was batted aside by Vingalmo's weapon of choice, an axe of all things, and followed by two more rapid slashes at the vampire's neck and hip.

Both were easily shunted aside, though the third strike, a stab at his midsection, allowed Vingalmo to trap the blade between the axe-head and shaft of his weapon. Using this newfound leverage, he lunged forward, Ketar's boots skidding against the cobblestone as he was steadily pushed backward. One final shove was enough to pin Ketar against the wall of a house, Vingalmo's lips spreading apart in a grin and eyes flashing with a hint of insanity. This vampire, as was noted, was particularly strong, considering he was still able to push Ketar's own sword closer and closer to his body, forcing him to rapidly take one leather-gloved hand off the hilt and push it against the back of the blade for better leverage.

"What gave you the audacity to believe you could challenge us?" Vingalmo drawled arrogantly. "You, a mere mortal worm, who spurned Harkon's gift. Was it hubris? Or perhaps the fact that Serana was indebted to you?"

Ketar snarled, hissing with the effort of trying to push him off.

The vampire's eyes widened slightly, burning with a mixture of dark amusement and pure hatred. "Oh…so it _is_ Serana, is it?" A low chuckle. "Well, you should know that for all her overtures of loyalty and trust, there is only one man she will ever belong to. The only man she'll ever come back to." He pushed the sword a few inches closer. "Me."

The Dragonborn stared back at him in confusion, feeling Vingalmo's push falter slightly in amusement.

"Did you really think your brief, petty friendship could overcome _centuries_ of history between us?"

Ketar's eyes slowly shifted, Vingalmo's words stirring that irritating feeling into something quite different.

He flashed his fangs. "I'll admit, I don't fault you for being tempted."

That irritation rapidly grew into something hot and uncomfortable, but with it came a burst of strength he'd only felt a few times in his life.

"There's a reason she's considered royalty. And I must say…" he grinned madly, "she is _quite_ something when she's on her back, intertwined—"

An enraged, feral roar split the night as Vingalmo was thrown six feet onto his back, Ketar's black sword flashing with the glint of nearby torchlight as it slashed downward. A deep gouge was carved into the stones that Vingalmo had just been occupying, the vampire steadily backpedaling as Ketar charged in with furious strokes, their weapons clanging together loudly. A low feint opened Vingalmo up to a blade pirouette that nearly took his head off, the vampire using Ketar's momentum to stick a shin kick in his gut. The blow completely knocked the wind out of him, sword almost falling from limp fingers, and being knocked clean out of his grip by a kick to his wrist. Another kick with the same leg laid Ketar out on his back, coughs racking his body as he tried to regain his breath.

A sideways scramble was stopped by a boot pinning his leg, Ketar glaring up at his grinning features. The steel of Vingalmo's axe flashed in the torchlight as it rose for a cleaving strike.

The weapon never fell.

Well, it did, but from Vingalmo's fingers, not toward Ketar.

A black-red blur flew across the crossroads and tackled Vingalmo into a far wall, the impact alone causing him to drop the axe several feet away from his original target. A low growl and hiss of pain came from him as the blur dug a curved dagger deeper into his chest, Vingalmo just managing to divert it away from his heart and throw his assailant back. She skidded to a stop between Ketar and Vingalmo, Elven dagger and the blood coating its blade glinting in the torchlight as she flipped it from overhand to underhand in alternation.

"Stay away from him," Serana snarled.

"Oh my," Vingalmo drawled as Ketar began to regain his bearings. "You _do_ like this one, don't you?" He chuckled and took a few steps toward her. "Dearest, don't you think you're being a little melodramatic?" A smile. "Perhaps all that time in the crypt affected your mind—or perhaps you haven't been feeding enough." He reached down with one hand, nails growing longer and rupturing the artery in his other wrist. "I can help."

Even from profile, Ketar could see Serana's features twist into the same vicious expression she'd sent at Babette upon her departure. "You can help me by allowing me to send you back to Molag Bal." She bared her fangs. "Learn your place, you little shit."

Even though she was standing between him and Vingalmo, Ketar couldn't help but feel an excited, terrified thrill pass through his body, both at her words and tone. It was like watching a queen dismantle a rowdy suitor or impertinent courtier: proudly, mercilessly, with weight and power and authority. Even Vingalmo seemed to think so, much to Ketar's chagrin.

"Oh, you are _such_ a jewel when you get like this. You'd been gone so long, I began to fear I might never see it again." Vingalmo grinned wider, showing all his teeth. "Oh, how I have never been more glad to be wrong."

"Leave this place," Serana said, "and never trouble these people again. Convince Harkon to abandon this madness and _go home_."

He chuckled. "Oh, Serana…you know that's never going to happen, so why bother?"

Her features softened just slightly. "Because whether I like it or not, Harkon's my father. Family." A snort. "I guess a naïve, foolish part of me is still hoping he'll listen to reason. Or that you will." She began twirling her dagger between her fingers. "Though I suppose your answer shouldn't surprise me. You always were an insolent bastard."

"Just the way you like me."

Serana smiled venomously. "We _all_ have our delusions."

And like that, Serana surged forward, her dagger flashing in the alley's faint light and allowing Ketar to track their movements. Seeing as how Vingalmo was occupied, he took the opportunity to rush over and check on Agmaer, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt a strong pulse answer his touch. A sharp, male cry from the side grabbed his attention, and he looked just in time to see Vingalmo thrown against the side of a house so hard, it left a small indent where he impacted. Several feet away, Serana lazily twirled her dagger and stalked toward him with deadly intent. Despite her clear intent to tear out his heart, Ketar could see Vingalmo's eyes light up at her in an unmistakable glint of pure lust. A bit of the old familiar rage was stirred up at the sight, Ketar's fingers going around the hilt of his blade as another roar was released, the Dragonborn charging into the fray alongside Serana.

Seeing himself completely outmatched, Vingalmo leapt straight upward and flipped onto the roof of a nearby building, taking off in a westward direction.

"You're not getting away that easily!" Serana yelled, leaping up after him. "Ketar, take care of Agmaer!"

Reluctantly, he replied, "I will!"

…

The relentless clacking of tiles under her boots was the only sound that reached Serana's ears. Loathe as she was to admit it, Vingalmo had always been far more talented at remaining undetected than she ever gave him credit for. And, since he had broken her line of sight since leaping away, sound seemed to be the only indication of his current position. Unless…

Suddenly, she remembered how he'd opened up his wrist for her. Undoubtedly, some traces of that would still be on him, even if it had healed, so the scent would still be in the air. Serana sniffed the cold mountain air and let the scents of the wind wash over her, detecting faint but distinct traces of copper off to her left. Grinning wildly, she began sprinting toward its sources and leapt from one roof to the next tracking it, until finally, it descended into the streets. Serana leapt down and turned the corner of an alley, smelling it most strongly there. What greeted her was an empty street, completely devoid of anything suspicious except a large pool of fresh blood.

Serana's orange eyes widened in horror as a deep, male scream sounded from nearby, legs immediately spurring her toward the source and sliding her to a stop when she came to a crossroads. She could only stare blankly at Isran's armored form bent over the bleeding, limp body of an Orc, Durak she thought his name was. Though Isran was relentlessly trying to heal him with magic, the pool of blood around his body was already too large. It wasn't fifteen seconds later before Isran's healing hand fell limp against his side, shoulders hunching over in despair. He stiffened up suddenly, then turned his head to face her as several other Dawnguard joined him at Durak's side.

Serana looked down, wincing in guilt. "I'm sorry," she exhaled softly.

Isran just stared at her for a while before turning back to his dead comrade.

No one said a word the whole way back to the fortress.

…

As Ketar later discovered, despite the density of vampires among the population, Durak had been the Dawnguard's only fatality. The rest were injured, some heavily so, but not enough to be fatal. Agmaer had taken a pretty nasty shot to the head, but nothing a few spells and potions couldn't fix. Serana helped. She'd been pretty quiet ever since leaving Jerall Point, which was honestly unlike her, especially considering the duration of the return journey. At the moment she was sitting by a fireplace and staring into the flames, and Ketar was torn between going to talk to her and attempting to console Isran, who was taking Durak's death the hardest out of all of them.

Speaking of which, the Dawnguard was effectively holding a wake for their fallen member, presumably before his internment in the castle's grounds, so while the return trip had been deathly quiet, the halls of Fort Dawnguard were now alive with conversation, laughter, and plenty of flowing mead. Whether it was the mead, his own questions, or just the look on her face, Ketar decided that for the moment, Serana deserved his attention more.

"Hey."

Serana blinked and jolted, sluggishly turning to look up at him. "Hey," she answered softly as he seated himself in a chair next to her.

He sighed wearily. "Rough night."

"Yeah."

"…how are you feeling?"

"Like I want to go back to my coffin."

"You don't mean that."

"Pretty hard not to. Vingalmo was my responsibility, and I let him kill Durak."

"There was no 'letting' involved. He played you, plain and simple. It happens to the best of us, trust me."

Serana frowned harder and turned back to the fire. "Isran won't see it that way."

" _Screw_ Isran. The man's entitled to his opinion, but anything more is just idiocy. You did nothing wrong."

She curled up and tucked her knees against her chest. "That's not what it feels like."

Ketar stared at Serana's firelit profile with his lips parted, eyebrows knitting as he felt a swell of pity overtake his heart. Without thinking, he reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. "It's not your fault."

She gulped slightly. "I know."

"Hey," he said firmly, physically turning her head to face him. "It's _not_ your fault."

Serana stared at him and he right back for a good twenty seconds before he broke eye and physical contact to turn toward the fireplace. She did the same a moment later. As the silence dragged on between them, Ketar's mind began to drift back to the night's events. Though he hated to even _think_ about it, he had to know…

"Were you and Vingalmo together?"

 _That_ got her attention _immediately_. "Oh, he'd like that," she drawled with a scoff.

"…then you weren't—"

"Of _course_ we weren't. If he told you otherwise, it was just to rile you up. Even _before_ I went to sleep for a thousand years, Vingalmo was a disgusting, manipulative ass, in some ways even worse than my father. Harkon at least has the _courtesy_ to be up front about how much he hates you."

Ketar stared at her blankly for a while, managing to get her to face him with a mildly scalding look. He gulped hard. "Okay." He turned back to the fireplace and made a point not to make eye contact with her.

About a minute of awkward silence passed before Serana sighed and got up, muttering, "I'll be back."

Ketar hummed absently and just kept staring into the fire, that irritating feeling in his chest curling and coiling into itself in a way that was…well, he honestly couldn't tell if it was unpleasant or not. He groaned in frustration, putting his head in his hands. At that particular moment, he wished more than anything that Lydia had a Nightingale amulet. Loathe as he was to admit it, he _really_ needed her advice.

…

Despite the fact that most never gave her more or less attention than the others, Serana had never felt so out of place in her life. It probably didn't help that, despite Ketar's best efforts, she already felt guilty over the cause for this wake. Thankfully, a familiar face in the crowd noticed this and took pity on her.

"Lady Serana—you look like you need a drink."

Her heart almost started singing at the reassuringly friendly sound of his voice. "Agmaer. I'm _so_ glad you're okay." She accepted a tall mug of sickeningly sweet honeyed mead from him with a nod of thanks.

Agmaer smiled and nodded. "That makes two of us." He rubbed the back of his head, where a white bandage was wrapped. "I didn't know vampires could hit that hard."

Serana chuckled. "Pretty sure that's because you've never let them get close enough to. Which is good, smart." She leaned in and mock-whispered. "Don't tell Isran this, but humans make poor vampire hunters."

Agmaer arched an eyebrow as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Oh?"

She nodded sagely as she took a long draw of her mead, wiping her lips when finished. "Slower, physically—and often mentally—weaker, more susceptible to damage. And they can be turned into their own prey. Werewolves, on the other hand, are _fantastic_ vampire hunters, even outside their beast form."

"Why outside?"

"Well, first off, they're immune to all diseases, so they can't accidentally contract vampirism. That, and even outside their wolf form, they can smell the dead—and most undead—from a mile away."

"…huh. Interesting. I didn't know that."

"Still wouldn't recommend becoming a werewolf, though." Serana smirked. "Not unless you want intermittent and massive cravings for rare meat."

Agmaer chuckled. "I think I'll stick with cooked meat, thank you."

"And you're a Nord."

He frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Sovngarde is closed to werewolves," she added, "so unless you want to be stuck hunting for Hircine's pleasure all your afterlife…"

"Oh."

"Yeah. Thought not."

They both fell silent as Serana drank down the last of her mead, a slight aftertaste making her cringe at the bitterness before shrugging it off.

"Anyway," she said, "I should get back to Ketar. He's probably brooding off in a corner somewhere."

Agmaer grinned. "That sounds like him." His smile faded. "Though tonight…I'm not really sure I can blame him."

Serana sighed hard. "Yeah."

She left without another word, making it halfway back to the fireplace before a sudden wave of dizziness overtook her. Serana swayed on her feet, tilting into a Dawnguard and mumbling an apology as a headache started to rise behind her temples. Distantly, she heard someone call her name as she stumbled and tripped her way into the fort's entering atrium. A second voice joined the first as she braced herself against one of the archways, a sudden burst of pain lighting up her insides and setting her blood on fire as her head suddenly caught up to what was happening.

And for the first time in well over a thousand years, she experienced true fear.

…

"Serana!"

Ketar kept shouting her name as he sprinted over to her, the commotion getting the attention of the other Dawnguard but only Agmaer came over. Ketar crouched in front of Serana's curled-up form, the veins in her face angrily standing out against her pale skin.

"Serana. _Serana_ , what's happening?"

Ketar exchanged a look with an equally alarmed Agmaer as she struggled to reply.

"G-Garlic," she hissed, flinching and grimacing in pain.

" _Garlic_?" Agmaer asked incredulously.

"It's poisonous to vampires in large enough quantities," Ketar supplied, thumb pulling down her eyelids one by one to see the capillaries in her eyes turning redder by the second. "But how did you get it into your system?"

Serana shook her head rapidly, breaths coming in ragged bursts. "I don't—" Suddenly, she stopped, glowing eyes going wide in horror as they landed on Agmaer. "The mead."

"What?" Agmaer and Ketar asked in tandem.

"The mead," she repeated. "The honey…it masked the taste."

Ketar's features shifted as his mind began to work out the pieces. Meanwhile, Agmaer was sputtering for words.

"B-But I—I couldn't. I _wouldn't_ —"

Suddenly, the portcullises of the entrance slid upward, separating an alarmed Agmaer and the rest of the Dawnguard from Ketar and Serana. Serana's eyes went wider when she glanced over the Dragonborn's shoulder.

Ketar smiled bitterly as his head tilted to one side. "I know you wouldn't."

With one smooth, sure movement, Ketar stood and turned around to stare unsurprised at the fully armed form of Isran.

* * *

AN: Cliffhanger! I'll try not to leave this one flapping in the wind for too long. If you know anything about me, I _hate_ unresolved cliffhangers, so I'll do my best to give you more ASAP. I don't really want to comment too much on this chapter; I've noticed I have a tendency to give too much away in these notes, so I'll try to keep my commentary to a minimum from now on, unless I have to talk about the rate of release or stuff like that.

At any rate, I hope you're enjoying this and looking forward to more.

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

The Incredible Hulk - Give Him Everything You've Got: start-0:26—arrival in Jerall Point/alleyway sighting, 0:26-0:50—first kills of the night/"Vampires!", 0:50-1:49—charging from the alley/"They knew we were coming!"/splitting up, 1:49-3:22—"Your memory serves you well"/ultimatums/Ketar vs. Vingalmo/Dragonborn's rage/the axe falls, 3:22-4:30—Serana tries to convince Vingalmo/vampires fight/Vingalmo's rooftop jump, 4:30-5:05—rooftop chase/Durak murdered


	9. Dragonborn's Fury

They sized each other up for a few moments before Ketar spoke first.

"Isran."

"Dov."

Ketar's lips pressed into a thin line. "What are we doing here, Isran?"

" _We_ are not doing anything. Since you obviously don't see it, you're going to stand aside and let _me_ do what needs to be done."

Ketar's right hand tightened into a fist at his side, his face remaining impassive. "You were the one who handed Agmaer that mug."

Isran snorted. "A modest amount of garlic is enough to ruin any vampire's day, but with a pureblood, I wasn't sure what to expect." His eyes narrowed as they zeroed in on Serana's groaning form. "So I tripled the concentration."

"That's why it was so sweet," Serana moaned. "You added _waaaay_ too much extra honey." She groaned again. "Amateur…"

Ketar almost smiled at her attempt at humor. Almost. "You've restrained your baser instincts up to this point. Why snap now?"

Isran's upper lip twitched. "Those vampires at Jerall Point were on alert. They _knew_ we were coming." His eyes turned to Serana's reeling form. "Only one way I can imagine _that_ happened."

Ketar's features shifted in a mix of relief and guilt. "I…Isran, it's _my_ fault."

The Redguard blinked. "What?"

He sighed hard. "Recently, I was attacked at one of my homes by a team of Thalmor killers. A few days ago, I sent one of my people to hunt down the agent responsible for sending them, and they traced him to Jerall Point. He didn't send those soldiers because of the Thalmor. He was a vampire collaborator."

Isran's left eyebrow arched.

"My friend taking him out is what put them on alert, not a traitor." Ketar's lips pursed hard. "Serana is innocent."

The Redguard's features shifted haphazardly, eyes darting from Serana to Ketar and back until they settled on him with an air of pity. "That's quite the elaborate story. I'm impressed you were able to come up with it, fiend."

Ketar blinked and shook his head. "Sorry, _what_?"

Isran's jaw clenched, and he took a step toward them. "That's exactly the kind of cover story I'd expect. And I'm sorry she made you say it."

"Made me…oh you have _got_ to be kidding me." Ketar huffed in disbelief, letting out an incredulous laugh. "You think—you think _I'm_ a thrall?"

By this point, the area beyond each portcullis was filled with Dawnguards, some of whom Ketar recognized, Agmaer most of all. Just one look was enough to tell the conflict in the young Nord. On one side, there was Serana, the other his mentor and teacher. Speaking of whom…

"It's the only explanation," Isran replied.

"No," Ketar interrupted angrily, "it's _your_ explanation. Do you have _any_ idea how many have tried to control my mind? Hm? Let's count them off." He flipped out a finger for each count. "Necromancers. Spriggans. Wisp mothers. Dragon priests. Gods-forsaken _dragons_! And they have all _failed_ , Isran, because my mind, my _will_ is stronger than all of them!"

"Perhaps, but pure-blooded vampires are uncharted territory, even for you."

He started pacing and let out another long, exasperated laugh. "And this? _This_ is a new low, even for you. I am not _controlled_."

"Which is exactly what she'd make you say if you were a thrall."

Ketar groaned in order to suppress a scream, almost at the point of tearing his own hair out when he saw Isran start advancing and draw his warhammer. His own hand immediately went up to the hilt of his sword, which stopped Isran in his tracks.

"I'm warning you," Ketar said firmly. "You don't want to do this."

"You haven't left me much choice. Your infatuation with that _thing_ will prove the Dawnguard's undoing if I don't do what's necessary. _Everyone_ seems to understand that except you."

"Oh really?" Ketar asked venomously. He waved his arms toward the barred doorways in the atrium. "Then why are none of them standing next to you, holding me down so you can," he made air quotes, "'do what's necessary'?" He chuckled humorlessly. "I mean, I know you deployed the bars, but there is a perfectly good balcony on the second floor. It's not _that_ far of a jump."

Isran's jaw worked.

Ketar's eyes narrowed. "You ever stop to consider that maybe you're standing alone for a reason? That maybe they see something you don't?" He snorted. "Did you know that I had to _convince_ Sorine and Gunmar to come back?" He jabbed a thumb into his sternum. " _I_ had to convince them. Dropping your name alone wasn't enough. Know why?"

Isran looked down and away.

"Because I suspect they saw you in much the same way I see you now, with your irrational hatred and endless _paranoia_." He snorted and tilted his head. "And yet, for all that, you're making the _exact_ same mistake. Like so many others I know, you allow your prejudice and pride to rule you, and that drives _everyone_ away." Ketar's gaze softened a bit as he let out a hard sigh. "So, for once…make a _different_ decision. Do the right thing. Put down the hammer…and let me fix this."

Isran's eyes darted between them uncertainly, a concentrated frown on his face as his mind raced. When his eyes and voice took on a note of pity, Ketar knew this wasn't going to end well.

"I'm so sorry you've been twisted this way," said Isran. "You will be free, Dov. I swear it."

Ketar sighed hard. "You're an idiot, Isran. A well-meaning one, perhaps, but still an idiot. If I _was_ a thrall, even if you struck her down, it wouldn't fix my head; you know that."

"But in time, you'd be free."

"I already _am_ free." The Dragonborn snorted. "But I guess _your_ head is too clouded to see that. So really…who's being controlled here?" He sighed hard and slowly drew his sword. "Very well. I'll do what I have to."

"So will I."

Isran charged forward, hammer at the ready, and waited until he closed to six feet before swinging for Ketar's left leg, aiming to cripple him. With a single, fluid motion, Ketar leapt and corkscrewed his body over the weapon, swiping for Isran's legs when he landed in a crouch. The Dawnguard leader jumped straight upward, the blade passing under his boots as he came down with a falling kick at Ketar's head. The Breton rolled to the left and came up in a wide stance, sword tucked against his side with the blade pointed out. The two paced around each other for several seconds, Ketar's dark blue eyes blazing with a quiet fury while Isran's were cold and calculating.

That calculating mind prompted him to lunge left, then twirl right in a backward hammer strike meant to take Ketar's legs out from under him. Ketar brought his sword down tip-first, the point sticking between two stones and fixing it in place as the shaft of the hammer hit the edge of the blade, stopping it in its tracks. Stepping toward Isran, he twirled counterclockwise and swung the pommel of his sword toward his jaw. The ebony bludgeon was stopped by Isran's armored left gauntlet, that same hand reaching out to grab the back of Ketar's neck and headbutt him. Ketar grunted in pain and stumbled backward, feeling air rush from his chest when the butt of Isran's hammer slammed into his gut and nearly forced him to his knees.

A single sharp cough was enough to clear his airway enough for a counter-strike, a quick stab at his lower chest followed by a wide swing for his left shoulder. Isran used both hands to stop the powerful strike with the shaft of his hammer, then lunged toward Ketar to drive a side-kick at his midsection. Ketar's empty left hand caught his boot and cradled it against his chest, left leg shooting out in low sweep to take his other leg out from under him. In the same sweeping motion, he kept turning clockwise to drive a spinning strike toward Isran's side. The Dawnguard rolled away just in time, the blade gouging a thin line through the stones and missing him by inches as he rolled to his feet.

Isran charged forward with a roar, the head of his hammer held out like a lance as Ketar sidestepped with a clockwise spin and slashed at his back. Isran swung his hammer backward in a wing-block motion, sweeping his attack aside and turning with the movement to deliver a glancing blow to Ketar's lower ribs. Though not nearly all of the force was transferred, it was enough to send a massive shock of pain shooting up his side and slow his reaction time. An overhead strike was stopped with the flat of his blade, both hands on either side of the sword, leaving him open to a push kick to the gut.

Stumbling backward, Ketar grunted in pain and snarled as Isran came in with two diagonal falling strikes. He ducked away from both of them, coming in under one with a spin and dashing past Isran as his blade cut a shallow gash across the Redguard's midsection. Isran grunted and hissed in pain, then came back in with several wild swings that Ketar avoided altogether with practiced ease. A forward lunge was spun around and countered with a shallow stab to Isran's left arm, causing his grip around the hammer to loosen slightly and the weapon's head to hit the floor.

Ketar delivered a punishing shin kick to the side of Isran's left thigh, causing that leg to collapse partway and leave him open to a roundhouse to the head. Isran rolled away from his second kick and swung his hammer low, managing to catch the back of Ketar's left heel while his other leg was still in motion. The impact completely took him off his feet and left him vulnerable, but Ketar quickly remedied this by barrel-rolling toward Isran and taking out his legs from under him. They both scrambled to their feet desperately, their grunts of effort the only sound in the otherwise silent atrium. An overhead strike was again caught on the flat edge of Ketar's blade, but he quickly followed up by shunting Isran's hammer to the left and smashing his pommel into the side of Isran's jaw.

He pressed his advantage with a flurry of rapid strikes, little by little wearing down the Redguard's stamina until…

Ketar was left reeling and coughing from a rapid counterattack with the butt of Isran's hammer smashing into his mouth. Suddenly, his opponent was even faster than before, not seeming tired or winded in the slightest as he rained down one massive strike after the next, more landing than not. A devastating hammer blow separated him from his sword, and a following kick to the gut bent him over halfway. Another butt-strike across the jaw sent his head spinning, and an arm-bar with the shaft of the hammer crippled his defenses while Isran laid into his face and body with his empty hand.

After a while, Ketar lost track of how many times he'd been struck, and was starting to lose consciousness when the voices of several people distantly reached his ears. Serana was the loudest of all of them, despite her obvious weakness. Agmaer was another, and as far as Ketar could tell, he was pleading for Isran to stop.

And stop he did, with Ketar just on the edge of dark oblivion and his left eye swollen half-shut. He could feel his face bleeding from numerous gashes even as he felt Isran's armored body get off him. His battered body screamed in protest as he rolled onto his side to see Isran stalking toward Serana. She tried to straighten up, to brandish her dagger and at least hold him back, but Isran made good use of his weapon's superior reach to deliver a brutal pommel strike to the side of her face. She practically shrieked at the impact, and a part of Ketar's mind wondered at it before he remembered: Dawnguard weapons burned vampires on contact. That, and she was already suffering from the effects of garlic poisoning. It wasn't until Isran had her lying down, a boot to her chest with his hammer at the ready that Ketar had regained his breath enough to speak.

"Don't do this," Ketar said quietly, voice becoming hard. "There's a line you do _not_ want to cross."

"Isran, _please_ ," Agmaer pleaded, his voice soon joined by Sorine and, of all people, Gunmar.

"Isran, don't!"

"You don't know what you're doing!"

Isran's stance never faltered, even as his gaze landed on Ketar's bloodied form. "I'm sorry, boy. But one day…you'll thank me for this."

The protesters' voices grew to a fever pitch as Isran drew the massive hammer back. He raised it over his shoulder, aiming straight for Serana's head. A sudden growl of pure, animalistic rage carried over—and silenced—all the shouts and protests.

" _Zun-Haal-Viik_!"

A sudden burst of power flowed from the Last Dragonborn as his Voice was unleashed on Isran. His jaw fell wide open when his hammer flew from suddenly limp fingers—

And landed squarely in Ketar's waiting hands.

…

Before Isran even knew what was happening, the head of his own hammer had been driven into his ribs so hard, he didn't even have the air to scream when half of them were completely _shattered_. He barely even felt the pommel strike that completely dislocated his jaw, or the spinning sweep that landed him on his back. He could only stare up helplessly at the mask of pure, feral rage on Ketar's face as he brought his own hammer up in the same executioner's stance he'd been in just a few moments earlier. For the first time in _years_ , he felt true, unbiased terror as the Dragonborn released an inhuman roar and brought the hammer down with every ounce of his strength.

…

In the moments immediately following Ketar's roar, the only noise that was heard was the sound of something shattering under the hammer. The sound carried throughout the large chamber, echoing from one stone wall to the next until finally, the atrium was completely silent. Only Ketar's heavy breathing could be heard, and only faintly. The red was starting to fade from his vision when he finally heard several gasps from the rest of the Dawnguard. His furious scowl stayed in place long after it finally cleared, revealing Isran's hammer buried deeply into the stones just inches from his head. Ketar let out a few more heavy breaths before letting the hammer fall to the side and making his way over to Serana, retrieving his sword on the way.

She had managed to push herself into a sitting position using a nearby wall as support, and was alternatively staring agape at him and Isran. The fury in his features had thinned out to a cold, expressionless neutrality by the time he reached her. He bent down and took her left arm to loop it around his shoulders.

"Ketar," she whispered.

"Come on, Serana," he interrupted softly, but just loud enough to be heard by all. Ketar stopped next to the exit gates, casting a long look at the gathered Dawnguards and a lingering glance at Isran, who was staring at him blankly. "We're done here."

Without another word, Ketar and Serana left Fort Dawnguard.

…

Serana didn't know where they were going. She wasn't sure it mattered. Whatever their destination, Ketar had insisted she ride Stormbreaker—which she was not about to protest—and walked alongside them, leading the horse by the reins. By the tension in his stance and the look on his face, he had some energy and tension to burn off, and sitting on the back of a horse would not help with that. Serana shivered and drew her hood tighter around her face. The cold of Skyrim had never bothered her before, but with all that garlic running through her veins, it seemed all the weaknesses of mortality were returning. She absently wondered what would happen if she were exposed to sunlight in this state…

"We're heading to Whiterun," Ketar said suddenly, startling her. "Right now, Breezehome is the safest place for you to recover." A small smile tugged at his lips as he looked up at her. "And I doubt Lydia would mind your company."

Serana tried for a return smile, but couldn't manage it when she saw the troubled look in his eyes. "Ketar…what happened back there—"

"Hey," he interrupted, tone unreasonably reassuring, "put it out of your head. Right now, you just need to focus on getting better, okay?"

Serana stared at him in disbelief. She couldn't help it. But his tone brooked no argument, so she nodded dumbly and returned to silence.

…

They reached the gates of Whiterun in record time, just as the sun was beginning to peek over the edge of the horizon, so Serana never had to test her theory about sunlight in her condition. The guards had a slight problem with him bringing his horse into the city, even partway, but once they saw his silver-sapphire ring and realized who he was, they were quick to shut up. Serana had never been more grateful for his notoriety than at that moment, when they all stood aside or assisted him in getting her to Breezehome. By the look on his face, he felt the same way.

Serana was surprised not to see anyone on the other end of the door when he pushed it open, but a single call of Lydia's name by Ketar, and she came running down the stairs. The Nord woman went white as a sheet when she saw the state Serana was in and began scrambling to help Ketar, which for some reason surprised her. Honestly, it might have been the garlic screwing with her head, but she never expected half of the support she'd gotten in the last twelve hours. Well, she'd always known that Ketar never liked Isran much, but for him to come within a hairsbreadth of killing him…

And that face he'd had, the pure rage…it made her shudder to even think about it. Absently, Serana heard Lydia's voice asking questions and realized after a few seconds that she was talking to her.

"What?"

Lydia frowned. "I said, are you in any pain?"

Serana grimaced and thought for a second. "Sort of. It's more like the worst kind of heartburn you can imagine."

Lydia winced. "Ugh, sounds like the morning after a binge at Jorrvaskr. Here, take this." She handed Serana a small mug of something that smelled like lemon. "It should help with the stomach."

Reluctantly, the vampire gripped the cup and began drinking, almost choking at the overpowering taste of lemon, but managing to get most of it down without issue. She coughed violently as she set the mug down on a nearby table, getting concerned looks from both Lydia and Ketar. The next few minutes passed in a heartburn-strewn blur as her two caretakers busied themselves with her health, Ketar eventually suggesting that she be taken to his bed for recovery. Serana might've blushed at the suggestion if she hadn't already been burning up because of the poison.

When she was coherent again, Serana caught Ketar staring at her from a chair next to the bed, his face in a deep frown. A hard sigh passed through his lips before he finally spoke.

"Would it help if you fed?"

Serana's eyes went wide in realization as she tried to scramble to her feet, stopped pitifully easy by Ketar's hand on her chest. She almost whimpered at her own weakness. "I—my satchel…the vials."

"Are gone," he said. "The satchel wasn't on you when we left the fort, and I was _not_ about to go back for it."

Serana frowned and nodded in understanding, a little confusion coming to her mind until he reached out with his left arm and a closed fist.

"Drink."

Her sunset-colored eyes went wide in sickness-induced shock and confusion, mind racing along with her lips. "W-What are you—you mean—"

Ketar sighed. "Serana—"

"Why did you do it?"

He stopped short, surprised by the question that even surprised the asker. "What?"

Serana licked her cracked lips and tried to put more strength in her voice. "Why did you do it? Why did you stand up to him…for me?"

She could've _sworn_ he rolled his eyes at her, but it was more like just a completely deadpan stare. "Why is that even a question?"

Serana stared back at him blankly. "Because—"

"Isran was wrong, that's why. Durak's death was not your fault. A combination of factors beyond anyone's control set the stage for that tragedy. Your choices had nothing to do with it. His hatred and prejudice blinded him to that fact, and his idiocy almost got you killed."

"…so?"

For a brief moment, Ketar's eyes flashed with anger before softening. "So…that's unacceptable. You were innocent, and I will not allow an innocent to pay for something they didn't do…especially not a friend."

Serana gulped hard, feeling her eyes prick and fog against her will as her voice grew quiet. "That's not how the world works."

Ketar's stormy blue eyes bore into her soul as he drew closer, his expression deadly serious. "It's how _I_ work."

She blinked several times, head clouding over and getting fuzzy, though whether from confusion or the sickness, she wasn't sure. "Kay…"

"Just drink," he sighed, voice lilting with exasperated amusement. "You're not yourself when you're hungry. Or sick."

Serana frowned, but nodded in concession and gently grabbed his arm by the hand and elbow. She sniffed at his wrist, feeling a massive rush of _yes_ thrum through her system before she looked up to meet his eyes. The only thing she could see there was a profound, consuming care and concern. So, with much reluctance (and a deep blush), she lowered her fangs to his wrist and gently dug in, almost immediately feeling her throat flooded with fiery warmth. A small, surprised noise came uncontrollably from her throat as his lifeblood flowed into her. It was like…nothing she'd ever felt.

The fire was there, yes, but it was a cleansing thing, not destruction. She felt it penetrate and permeate every cell of her body, washing away the imperfections and poisons. Pains and aches she had forgotten were even there began to melt away in the tide of his blood. Suddenly, she understood in full why that Babette character had wanted this so badly. Mere seconds with his life flowing through her felt like an eternity of pure bliss. With a heady, fuzzy sensation, she reluctantly detached from his wrist with a small smack. She belatedly realized that while her fangs had been busy drawing blood, her lips and tongue had been busy kissing his wrist, and blushed an even deeper shade of scarlet as a result. When she caught his mildly amused gaze on her, all she wanted to do was sink into the mattress, but fortunately, he stood up and handed her a clean cloth for her mouth, then left the room.

Serana stared at the closed door for a few moments before her body's exhaustion finally caught up with her, and for the first time in nearly a month, she slept like a baby.

…

Serana couldn't have known, but it had been well over two hours since they arrived at Whiterun, and it was only after she'd begun to shiver violently that Ketar had realized his blood was the only answer. As he processed the last few minutes in his head, he leaned against the doorframe of his bedroom and let out a long sigh of relief.

"Okay."

Ketar's head abruptly snapped to Lydia, who was staring at him with crossed arms.

"What in the sixteen planes of Oblivion happened?"

…

The one thing Ketar could never accuse Lydia of was being a bad listener. Throughout his entire recounting of the events from the previous night onward, she never said a word or interrupted in any way. By the end, she took a full half-minute to process it all, then finally gave her response.

"Based on what you'd told me, I'd always thought this Isran was violent, but…to go to such lengths…I didn't think—"

"Neither did I," Ketar interrupted. "But he did, and when that happened…" His upper lip twitched with a snarl as he began to feel heat pooling in his chest. "Lydia, I—" His fingers starting spasming in strangling motions as he got up and started pacing the living room, breathing heavy with rage. He stopped abruptly and whirled to face her. "I've _never_ wanted to kill someone so much in my _life_."

She stood up, expression deadly serious as she approached him.

"I…I wanted to do a _hell_ of a lot more, I…" Ketar scowled and tensed his fingers, as if wrapping them around a throat while his voice began rising in volume an intensity. "I wanted to tear him limb from limb. To rip him apart with my bare hands and watch him _die_!" His hands started shaking as he looked off into the distance. "I don't…I've never…"

"But you have," Lydia said softly but firmly. "Remember?"

"I can't…I don't—"

"Think back," she said, drawing closer to him as his breathing got even heavier.

Suddenly, his eyes shifted with understanding. "But…that was _you_ , and…she's…we haven't…it was never that powerful, Lydia. Why would I feel that for…maybe Isran was right. Maybe I _am_ a thrall."

Lydia's tone sharpened as she reached out and grabbed his shoulders. "Listen to me," she ordered. "You—are not—a thrall. Isran is an idiot who knows nothing about you, because if he did, he would know that there isn't a force in Nirn or Aetherius that could make you do or think or feel _anything_ you don't want to."

"But—"

"But nothing. You stepped in to protect someone you care about. Do you regret it?"

"No…"

"Then what the hell is the problem?"

Ketar started shaking, hands first, then the rest of him as he finally met her eyes, his voice coming out as a broken whisper. "I'm scared."

Lydia's gaze softened. "And you have _every_ right to be."

"No, no that's not…I'm not supposed to…" His head shook violently. "I'm the Dragonborn, Lydia. I'm the one who has to face the darkness, because I'm the one who can _never_ lose. Fear has no place in that."

"Fear…is what keeps you alive."

"I don't know what this is. I don't know…what I'm feeling, and it _terrifies_ me."

"Yes you do."

"No, I _don't_ ," he insisted desperately, pacing as he began to hyperventilate. "I don't know…I don't know…"

"You do, Ketar."

He started trembling harder, hands going to hold his head as began heaving for breath. "Oh gods…oh gods…"

Lydia gripped his shoulders tighter. "Don't run from it."

His fingers gripped her tunic hard almost enough to tear it. "Oh gods…"

Her voice softened as his head fell against her chest. "Let it come."

And with that, Ketar Niel Dov, the Last Dragonborn, dissolved into helpless, body-wracking sobs.

"I see him," he croaked between sobs. "I see him everywhere. Can't sleep, can't think…he's always there."

Lydia's arms went around his shoulders tightly. "I know." Her eyes stung with unshed tears. "And I was a fool not to see it before."

"I'm supposed to stop him, and I failed. He was right there…with you, and he was…and then when Isran had her pinned, had that hammer…" He managed to push away and meet her eyes with his reddened ones. "If I'd been…a split-second too late—"

"But you weren't," Lydia interrupted.

"I'm supposed to be the one who wins, every time. I _have_ to, because if I don't, the whole _world_ suffers."

"Ketar," she sighed, "…you're not a god. And even they don't always triumph."

He stared at her blankly.

"Don't—run from this."

Ketar's lower lip started trembling as he stared at her unblinkingly, as if she'd vanish if he looked away.

Lydia's eyes went wide in realization. "Oh gods…I've been such a fool."

He blinked in confusion.

She let out a long breath. "I always knew, ever since that day, that Alduin took a piece of you, that he made you afraid, for the first time. But it's not for yourself, is it?" Her head shook slowly. "No, you're not afraid of being hurt. You're not even afraid of death."

Ketar looked away.

Lydia gently moved his head to make him face her. "You're afraid of failing us."

He said nothing at first, but when he did, his voice came out shaky. "Every night, my mind shows me what would've happened, if I hadn't surged forward on that mountain." He shrugged. "I can't stop it. It just plays, over and over and over. And I keep thinking…what if next time…I don't—"

"But you will."

"But what if I don't—"

"Ketar," she interrupted firmly, "you _will_. You always do. You always have. That's why they follow you, you know."

He frowned in confusion. "Who?"

She smiled and let out a small huff of a laugh. " _Everyone_. The Brotherhood, the College, the Guild, the Nightingales. That determination, that _drive_ to win no matter what… _that's_ why they all follow your lead. Not because you're the Dragonborn, or the Listener, or a Nightingale, or whatever title you hold." Lydia cupped his cheek. "They follow because they see _who_ you are, not just _what_ you are." She smiled sadly. "You're so good at doing that for others…it never occurred to me that you couldn't do that for yourself."

Ketar gulped and looked away.

"It's okay to be scared, Ketar. Everyone feels it now and then." Lydia smirked. "He may not have showed it, or ever be willing to admit it, but when you severed Alduin's talon, I promise, he _learned_ to fear you. Why? Because in that moment, when you faced each other, he saw for the briefest instant what all of us already see. And it terrified him, because he realized he'd finally found someone who, no matter how beaten or broken, would _never_ bow to him. So he fled."

Ketar's features and breathing began to settle as he kept staring into the distance.

"It's okay to be scared," she repeated. "You know why?" Lydia turned his head to look at her again. "Because whether it's me, or Brynjolf, or the College, or Serana…you will never, _ever_ have to face that fear alone. You _know_ what it is you really feel." She smiled. "So don't run from it. You might not want to admit it, you may want to hide and bottle it up, like you've been doing for months, but don't. Face it. Accept it, and everything it carries…everything it means."

Minutes passed in silence as Ketar's breathing was the only sound that carried. Finally, it stabilized, and his shoulders sagged in visible relief as a long, breezy breath passed through his lips.

"I…" he huffed, "I can't remember the last time I felt so…" A grin slowly spread over his features as he turned to face her again. "Thank you." He pulled her into a tight embrace and held her close. "Thank you so much."

Lydia smiled into his neck and gently kissed his cheek. "You are so very welcome. So, now that you understand…what are you going to do?"

He pulled away, sniffing and wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. "I think there's a…" he glanced upstairs, toward his bedroom, "long talk on the horizon."

She grinned.

"But first…I need to go see an old smith."

Lydia arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Ketar nodded slowly, a small, almost predatory smile coming to his lips. "There's something I've been putting off for far too long."

She nodded toward the exit. "Then you better get to it."

He nodded again and started gathering a few items from a nearby storage closet. "You're uh…fine to take care of Serana, right?"

"Of course."

"I might be gone a couple of days, to be honest."

Lydia chuckled. "I'm sure we can think of something to keep us busy. She _is_ an avid reader after all."

Ketar barked a laugh as he piled a bunch of items into a burlap sack. "True." He made for the door, pushing it halfway open before stopping to shout one last thing. "Tell her I'll be back soon."

"Will do. Good luck, Lord Dov."

He grinned and gave her one last wink before departing.

…

A loud thump from upstairs alerted Lydia to the fact that Serana was awake. It had been barely a minute since Ketar left, and fifteen since she'd fallen asleep, yet at the first sign that he was gone, she'd apparently jolted back to consciousness. With no one in sight, Lydia couldn't restrain the teasing grin she'd been holding in since Ketar first walked through the door with her. With a soft, contented sigh, she made her way upstairs with a tray of food, gently nudging the door open and catching Serana attempting to climb out of bed.

"Nuh-uh-uh—stay right there. Doctor's orders."

Serana blinked and stared at her in confusion. "But I'm healed."

"I'll be the judge of that," Lydia insisted as she laid the tray down on the night-table. "Give me your hands…close your eyes…tongue out."

Serana gave her an incredulous look at the last one, getting a grin in response and rolling her eyes at Lydia's antics.

"Almost got you," she laughed.

"Ha ha," Serana deadpanned, looking toward the doorway. "Where's Ketar?"

Lydia was still smiling as she poured Serana a cup of fresh tea. "There was some business he needed to take care of, and since you're still healing, he figured he'd let you rest." She grinned. "Hope you don't mind hanging with me for a while."

Serana frowned curiously. "What sort of business?"

Lydia shrugged. "Not really _my_ business to say. He said it could take a while, a few days max."

Serana sighed dramatically. "Well, I suppose I could stomach your company for a time."

They stared each other down for a few moments before both breaking out into laughter, Serana falling into a small coughing fit when something didn't quite feel right. Though her laughter stopped, her smile never dampened as Lydia handed her the tea.

"But hey," said Lydia as she poured her own tea, "this means we have a few days to ourselves, just us ladies."

Serana grinned. "Sounds pretty good to me."

Their mugs clinked together briefly before they forsook conversation for the pleasures of tea.

…

"Eorlund!"

The gray-bearded smith wiped his sweat-stained face with a rag before straightening up and dusting off his hands. "Ketar, my old friend. What can I do for you?"

With a grim expression, Ketar opened the rift and dropped a long, black talon into his hands.

Eorlund's eyes went wide at the sight. "Is that—"

"Yes." His lips pursed. "Can you help me?"

The old smith's face split into a gigantic grin. "My friend, it would be my utmost pleasure."

…

"To start, we'll need to light the Skyforge. Since this is dragonbone we're working with, it will need to be hotter than it's ever been. Now, I've heard of a smith in Riften who uses fire salts to improve the quality of his flame—"

"I'll do you one better. _Yol-Toor-Shul_!"

"…well…that works too."

…

 _Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!_

Sweat and fire and heat and the hard impact of a hammer's fall. Under sunlight, firelight, or moonlight, this was the full focus of the Skyforge and its wielders. On this day, and the next two with it, the forge flared with the power of dragonfire, its heat scorching and deadly to all but a select chosen who understood and respected it. Two such beings occupied the forge, an unearthly power and purpose to their movements as the fires burned day and night. Bone and metal and fire mixed in a deadly and beautiful display as the materials were shaped and forged from raw hunks into something entirely different.

The talon of the World-Eater, its bones and scales of equal black, was fractured and cut, trimmed down and torn to pieces. One of those pieces was given the most attention, a long, thin cut of pure midnight that found its way into the hands of a master smith and his young apprentice. The strike of hammer and anvil permeated the air of Jorrvaskr, as it did on many days, but the longer it persisted, the more the Companions that resided there began to realize: something was happening that had _never_ occurred before.

…

The grind of a grindstone shaped the brittle edges of hot bone as another figure studied a different weapon, a katana of Akaviri descent that contained an ancient and powerful enchantment: to assail and slay dragons with the full power of man's hatred, to cleave apart their scales and bones as if they were plywood. Dragonbane, it was called. Its secrets would have remained hidden, if not for the keen magical eyes of its holder. A few hours' time was enough to glean what was necessary, and by then, the bone's shape and sharpening was all but finished.

…

Ingots of pure black ebony were melted down and poured into a mold around the midnight blade, creating a hilt and brace for the blade, with an open ring as its pommel. The air of the Skyforge pulsed with magical light, the moon and torches giving a bit of their own as the sword was levitated by a shirtless figure with midnight-black hair and stormy blue eyes. The figure's right hand flared with the draw of magicka, a large, circular, symmetrically-cut sapphire levitated and affixed within the ring of the pommel. Another flash of magic imbued the stone with a spell that would channel the magical power of any who wielded it. While the gem yet glowed with the heat and power of its enchantment, its owner lifted his hand to the blade and snapped his fingers in a clawing motion, arcs of blue-green energy lashing out at the bone and etching into its blade runes of pure sunlight, deadly to any and all undead.

…

As three days and nights drew to a close, the sword was heated with dragonfire and quenched again and again, each time making it stronger. The final quenching was performed with the Voice, a sustained blast of pure cold that created an unbreakable magical seal over the blade's edge. It would not tarnish or dull, whether by fire or sword, monster or magic. Its sheath and strap was forged of similar material, the black dragonscales of the World-Eater reinforced and knitted together with cords of twisted ebony. The exhaustion of its makers was readily apparent, but for all their sleepless nights, an air of jittery energy still permeated the forge.

"A sword made from the bones of a dragon…surely such a weapon has not been seen since before the time of Tiber Septim. And _never_ one made from the very body of the World-Eater." Eorlund Gray-Mane looked from the sword to its wielder. "No simple name could ever befit such a weapon. Have you given any thought to what you should call it?"

Ketar Niel Dov stared into the runes of the midnight black blade, a pensive glaze taking over his features. "I have, actually. The past three days have given me a great deal of time to think." His head tilted slightly as he inspected the sword from all angles. "There will come a day, a day of christening…when this blade is returned to its source. On that day, it will have earned its true name. But…for now…it will be known as an icon of my rage. A symbol of righteous anger that pursues and destroys the evils of this world. ' _Nah'Dovahkiin_ ' is its name"

The sword returned to its sheath as the sapphire in its hilt, like the eyes of its holder, glinted in the Skyforge's dimming light.

"Dragonborn's Fury."

…

It was a strange thing now, sleeping. After a thousand years of sleep, Serana would've thought she'd get used to it. But now, her sleep was troubled with dreams—actual dreams. Dreams of what were, what might have been, and what still could be assailed her every night he was gone. So aggressive were they that when she awoke on the fourth day, it was right at the crack of dawn. Awake by morning—the irony! With a disgruntled moan, Serana made to go back to sleep, but stopped when she heard the creak of the bedroom's double doors opening. She was ramrod straight in an instant when she saw that the form of the person entering was male.

A blink and closer look at his face revealed the smiling countenance of Ketar Dov, and she suddenly got the urge to start singing. She suppressed it, of course, seeing as how her voice had languished with a millennium of disuse, but still. It took effort. And the thought alone made her blush. Apparently, he caught it, because he smiled wider as he approached the bed and sat on the edge near her feet. It took her a few moments to realize what was so strange, but when she did, it almost made her gasp in shock.

 _His eyes…that darkness…it's gone._

No, not gone. Just…tamed, as if it had been a wildfire far too out of control, and he'd breathed a cool balm to calm it. After all, she'd seen him do it before. Suddenly, his hand was on hers, and he was talking.

"How are you feeling?"

Serana gently bit her lower lip. "Better. Much better than I've felt in _years_ , actually. Even before going to sleep."

Ketar nodded slowly. "That's great to hear." He smiled. "I guess my blood agrees with you." His smile widened into a full-blown grin. "And I get the feeling that's not _all_ that agrees with you."

Serana's body tried to make her blush at the memory of her feeding, but she suppressed it with a clearing of her throat. "Yes, well…you _are_ my closest friend. For a while my _only_ friend."

He arched an infuriatingly well-formed eyebrow at her, his gaze and tone more playful and coy than she'd ever heard it. "Is that all?" He shrugged and feigned nonchalance. "I thought there might've been something else you liked, seeing as how you lingered at my wrist. You know…pressed up against my skin…"

This time, she couldn't fight back the blush and began glaring at him, arms crossed defensively. "So?"

His grin showed for a moment before thinning to the warmest smile she'd ever seen him give. "I've had a lot of time to think over the past few days. A lot of…decisions I'd been putting off that haven't served me well." His lips pursed. "Serana, you asked me before why I stopped Isran, why I went to such lengths to save you." He sighed. "The truth is, I feel a…connection between us. I know you've felt it too. And for a while, I thought it was something else. I _needed_ it to be something else, because the truth scared me far too much." He took and released a long breath. "But I'm done letting fear dictate my actions."

Ketar gently took her hand again, looking over at her earnestly. "Sera…you're special to me." He shrugged. "In a way that…I don't think I fully understand yet." He leaned toward her. "But I want to. And if, by some longshot, you want that too…I won't let anyone or anything get in the way of that."

Serana stared at him with wide eyes and parted lips, pure disbelief running through her veins.

 _He can't be serious…this can't be real._

Absently, she pinched herself, trying to be discreet about it, but he noticed and grinned downright wolfishly.

"I know a better way to check if you're awake."

Suddenly, his lips were on hers, and he was pressing forward eagerly but clumsily and it was too much too fast and she felt this unimaginable _terror_ overtake her.

Serana pushed him off and got up in the blink of an eye, pacing the room as she hyperventilated. When she turned back to face him, the expression of disappointment and _guilt_ on his face was almost enough to break her.

"You…you don't…" He trailed off as a hand ran through his hair. His head shook and eyes flashed in apology. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize—"

"No," she interrupted without thinking. "I do." At the disbelief and confusion on his face, she repeated, "I _do_."

A thoroughly confused Ketar got up and started pacing. "Then…why—"

"Because this isn't the kind of relationship where you can lock down."

He held out his arms. "I'm open, Sera. Completely open. I don't _want_ to be a closed book anymore."

"I _know_. I see that." She bit her lower lip and looked away. "But that has to go both ways and…if you see me…" she glanced up at him, " _all_ of me…" Serana turned away from him and stared off into the distance. "You might not like what you find."

She sensed his presence at her back before she felt his breath whisper, "Try me."

With a surge of fear and anxiety and completely irrational hope, Serana closed her sunset-colored eyes and let a familiar wave of power overtake her, lighting her blood on fire and changing her body as a cloak of pure darkness wrapped around her.

…

Ketar had seen it before, briefly, as he fell to Nirn, and then again, when Harkon showed him in Volkihar. But this, now…it was like looking at Serana for the first time all over again. The leathery wings, the gray skin, claws, ears longer and pointed, scant but opulent clothing…and a golden crown of nobility.

As Serana turned to look at him, now quite a bit taller, he couldn't help but stare. And then she spoke, in a voice altered by supernatural forces but still…her.

"Now you understand."

The statement was spoken in a soft, almost broken whisper, her eyes turned downward and unable to meet his gaze. Ketar took a step toward her, then two, and cocked his head to one side.

"I just have one question," he said, watching her tense up. "Where did the crown come from?"

Serana's head shot up to stare at him incredulously.

"Or the rest of your clothes, for that matter? Wait—when you transform back, are you gonna be naked?"

She kept staring in disbelief. "Wha—you're not—"

"What?" Ketar interrupted sharply. "Afraid? Disgusted?" He sighed hard. "Sera…did I really seem so shallow?"

Her inhuman face sagged in visible relief. "I—no, but…" she looked down and away, "we _all_ have our insecurities."

Ketar reached up and put a hand on her cheek, turning her gaze back to him. "This… _never_ has to be one of yours. Not with me. You're not a monster, Serana. I've known _many_ monsters in my life, and the worst ones by far have worn _human_ skin, not vampire." His voice went hard and authoritative. "Because whether or not you're a monster isn't determined by your diet or appearance. It's your _actions_ that define who and what you are. You stopped Vingalmo from killing Agmaer and me. You went to the Dawnguard even knowing you'd likely be killed because you believed humanity was worth saving—and that's _saying_ something because there are days when even _I'm_ not sure of that.

"And in this very form…you saved me from falling to my death." He grinned when her glowing eyes went wide. "You didn't think I remembered that, did you? How could I forget? I knew the moment I woke up. Know why?"

Serana visibly gulped. "No."

"Because, whatever form you're in…" Ketar smiled and pressed his hand against her cheek, "you have the same eyes."

Serana blinked several times, her body again encased in darkness as he felt her shift, her human form emerging from the shadows a few seconds later, his hand still on her cheek.

"Kay…"

That whisper, quiet, like a leaf on the verge of cracking, completely set him off. Honestly, he'd expected her touch to be cold and somewhat clammy, considering she was, well…dead, and for the first split-second, it was. And then his mouth was flooded with heat, warm and soft, like drinking in fire. Fire that was quickly spreading throughout him, from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes, making him feel more and more like rapidly melting silver being poured and shaped by a master smith. The moment her fingers brushed against his neck and drifted up to the back of his head, his legs gave out.

She caught him easily, gently lowering him to the ground without once breaking contact. His head swam with a heady buzz as his hands unconsciously drifted to her hips and her fingers tangled in his hair. He couldn't tell how much time had passed before he came up for air, but by then, he was trembling almost violently. His reddened face laid his feelings completely bare for the first time as he stared at her with unshackled awe. A charged silence overtook the room for a while as Ketar tried to find his voice again.

"Um…that was…wow."

Serana bit down on her lower lip to try and stifle her grin.

"We should uh…we should do that again…sometime."

She bit down harder to restrain a laugh and not embarrass him further. "Yes. I agree."

Ketar still went red as a beet and cleared his throat. "But uh…later." He reluctantly pulled away from her and rose to his feet.

"Oh?" Serana arched an eyebrow, her curiosity dampening her laughter. "Why's that?"

"Because," he frowned, "one truth deserves another."

Serana frowned up at him in question.

Ketar took a breath and sighed. "If you want to know what happened at the Throat of the World…there's something I need to show you."

At that, her eyes lit up and right hand reached out to grasp his offered one. He hauled her to her feet, noting that she didn't let go even when pulled upright. That heat returned, a little muted, but still powerful, as she smiled up at him with this _look_ that made him melt all over again. And when she spoke, her voice came out like pure silk.

"Lead the way."

* * *

AN: Two chapters in as many days. Booyah! I hope this was as satisfying to read as it was to write, because let me tell you, just doing the Dragonborn's Fury sequence felt like writing the forging of Anduril. Let me know what you thought of all this. The scene with Lydia felt…I had it different in my head, but I couldn't quite get it to come out exactly right. I kept forgetting bits. I might revise it in the future.

Anyway, hope I delivered to your expectations and have you hankering for more!

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

Far Cry 3 - The Giant's Head: Ketar vs. Isran  
Beowulf - What We Need Is a Hero: start-0:44—hammer and anvil/Dragonbane/sharpening the blade, 0:44-1:09—hilt and brace/magical gemstone/burning the runes, 1:09-end—heating and quenching/finishing touches  
The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - Under an Ancient Sun: "time to think"/Serana's anxiety/transformation/Ketar's acceptance/first kiss/end of chapter


	10. Season Unending

AN: Totally forgot—I never gave you a description of what Dragonborn's Fury actually looks like. For starters, I HATE the look of the vanilla dragonbone sword. Hate it hate it HATE IT. I never used it in the game just because I hated the look. There is absolutely no symmetry to it, which I guess makes sense because it's brittle bone and not malleable metal, but look at the greatsword and dagger variations! So, needless to say, I modded the living crap out of it. My favorite look for the regular sword variant is by LeanWolf. Go search for LeanWolf's Better-Shaped Weapons on Google if you want an idea of what Dragonborn's Fury actually looks like. Except think slightly longer (longsword length) and all black, with a brilliant-cut sapphire occupying the empty space of the pommel ring. That is all.

* * *

Lydia couldn't even _hope_ to restrain her grin when they came down the stairs hand-in-hand, smiling and whispering to each other. So, instead, she busied herself with making them both a hearty breakfast. Serana was going stir-crazy being locked up in there and Ketar looked like he _really_ wanted to test out his new toy—which he hadn't even let _Lydia_ touch. If she were a betting woman (a habit she'd barred herself from after losing most of her paycheck to Brynjolf), she'd bet that they'd both be leaving Whiterun within the hour. Thus, meals on the go were on the menu for this morning.

"How'd you both sleep?" Lydia asked intentionally loudly, startling both of them.

"Fine," Serana was quick to answer, followed closely by Ketar.

At the steady rise of Lydia's left eyebrow and blossoming grin on her face, Ketar was quick to add, "Not _together_ , if that's what you're implying."

"No, no," Serana added with a shake of her head, "not together."

They both stared at Lydia, a boy and an ancient vampire, and blushed like two teenagers caught making out. She let them stew in it for a few seconds before chuckling and saying, "I didn't say anything. _You_ came up with that. So, I guess that means _something's_ on your mind."

Ketar gave her a potent (yet ineffective) glare in response.

Lydia just laughed and waved them toward the table. "Breakfast, though I'm sure you'd like to take it on the move."

With a sigh, Ketar finally relented and strode over to the parcels. "Sadly, yes. I know we didn't get to stay for too long, and I was…busy, but…" he leaned in and lowered his voice, "I'm taking her to see Alduin's Wall."

"You _know_ I can still hear you, right?" Serana asked with an amused tilt of her head.

Ketar groaned and rolled his eyes. "Just…" he dropped a small but heavy sack of coins on the table, "try not to spend it all in one place."

Lydia's eyes lit up.

"And _do not_ go to Riften," he ordered loudly. "After last time, you are _banned_ from the Ragged Flagon for all eternity."

"Wha—says _who_?"

"Says _me_ , and in case you forgot," Ketar jabbed a thumb into his chest, " _I'm_ the Guildmaster."

Lydia gave him a deadpan frown and grumbled before replying, "Fine."

"Good." Ketar reached over and grabbed the parcels, then made his way toward the exit. "You'll be okay with us gone?"

Lydia smirked and tapped her chin. "Hmm…I _have_ become rather attached to her these past couple days, so…"

" _Her_?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, you I don't really have a choice with…"

Ketar rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand at her. "Whatever. Sera? You ready?"

Lydia's eyebrows shot skyward. _Sera?_

Her eyes drifted over to Serana, who turned to him immediately with a nod and followed behind.

Lydia smirked and crossed her arms. "Try not to get too sidetracked, you two."

"We'll be _fine_ , Lydia," Ketar replied.

Another teasing grin spread over her features as she raised her voice, insistent on having the last word. "And make sure you have an adequate headboard!"

The incoherent sputtering of her master and peals of Serana's laughter were audible even through the door.

…

It took Serana almost ten minutes to notice something was different about Ketar's gear. When she did, it was right as they were saddling Stormbreaker.

"What is _that_?" she asked, pointing squarely at the sword on his back.

Ketar glanced up at it, then smiled at her. " _That_ was my business for the last three days."

"Oh?"

"Mhm." He offered her a hand up, which she took and used to pull herself into the saddle. "It's called 'Dragonborn's Fury.' Forged with ebony and the bones of a dragon."

"That's…wow. I didn't know you could do that."

"The only place I know it can be done is the Skyforge, right here in Whiterun."

Serana frowned as they got moving, him walking alongside the horse. "Then why were you gone for three days?"

He smirked. "Because, as with most things, I get caught up in my work. And it all had to be done at once. It was a one-of-a-kind material, so we only got one shot. No time for breaks, no time to forget a step."

"Huh…so, since it _is_ one-of-a-kind, is there anything it can…do?"

Ketar outright grinned. "I'm _so_ glad you asked. _This_ thing is enchanted about sixteen ways from Oblivion. I etched Dawnguard runes into the blade to make it deadly to undead, and used an enchantment I learned from the Blades to hone the edge. No more ineffectually hacking away at dragonscales when I get grabbed. Now? This thing cuts through their hide like butter. Add to that the fact that this thing never gets dull and…well, it can kill just about anything."

Serana's eyebrows shot skyward. "O…kay then. Brelyna said you were a talented enchanter, but I never expected _this_. I can't even _begin_ to imagine how valuable that weapon would be."

Ketar frowned. "I can. Which is why I gave it one more little trick." He tapped the large sapphire in its hilt. "This stone is enchanted to magnify the magical power of whoever wields it, but only if they carry dragon blood within them. I figured, since… _most_ dragons don't have the form to use a weapon like this, that leaves the pool of potential users to uh… _me_."

Serana frowned. "And…what happens to anyone else?"

"Oh, they get burned. One of the perks of forging with dragonfire. You can imbue seemingly normal substances with _uncanny_ enchantments."

She let out a long breath. "If you were trying to impress me, you did a _very_ good job of it."

He grinned. "I wasn't, but that's good to know."

They proceeded further from Whiterun, falling silent on the road until something occurred to Serana.

"So, where's your other one?"

"Oh! That reminds me, thank you."

Ketar reached out in front of him and opened the rift, pulling out his ebony sword. He then gripped it by the sheath and handed it to _her_ hilt-first.

She stared at it, then at him. "…I can't take that."

"Sure you can." He smirked wryly. "This _is_ what people do when they start courting, right? Give each other gifts?"

Serana arched an eyebrow, a smile forcing itself to her lips. "So we're 'courting' now?"

Instead of blushing like she'd assumed, he just shrugged and smiled gamely. "Figured it was fitting enough. I mean…you know…we _did_ kiss."

"Mhm," she hummed, grinning salaciously, "and it was _some_ kiss."

Ketar's face started heating up, but he kept his confident air as he kept holding out the sword. "I get that the dagger is your trademark, and you are _very_ good with it, but…" he frowned, "when Isran had you pinned…its lack of reach prevented you from fighting back."

Serana pursed her lips. "I see your point." With a sigh, she reached out and took the weapon from his hands, holding it up and inspecting it.

"Besides…"

She drew it halfway from the sheath, marveling at the pristine quality of its glassy, jet-black surface.

"…black is _your_ color too."

Serana smiled and slid it back into the sheath, then tied it to the left of her belt. "Thank you."

He grinned up at her. "You're absolutely welcome."

Serana kept smiling, the expression turning devious a few moments later. "For the record, people who are courting don't usually _start_ with swords."

Ketar was silent for a moment before responding. "People who are courting aren't usually a twenty-year-old Dragonborn and a millennia-old vampire."

"…touché."

…

"So…Alduin's Wall. Where is it exactly?"

Ketar glanced back at Serana, having mounted Stormbreaker a while ago, his hood for once not obscuring his range of motion or vision. "Alduin's Wall is just a relief sculpture, really. It's housed in a place called Sky Haven Temple, a former Blades stronghold."

"The Blades…you mentioned them before."

Ketar blinked. "Oh. Right. Forgot—time gap. Uh…well you should know that they were the protectors of the Septim emperors, right down to the last one. Their order was originally intended as a group of dragonslayers back in ancient times. When they discovered a Dragonborn, they pledged themselves to his service, a tradition that continued until the end of the Third Era. But after the death of the last Septim, they were disbanded and replaced by the Penitus Oculatus. The Thalmor basically hunted what was left to extinction."

"The Oculatus…you mentioned them to that guard in Dragon Bridge."

"I've tangled with them once or twice. Substandard inbred bastards, if you ask me. I'm no particular fan of the Blades at the moment, but even I have to admit—what's left would whoop their asses twelve days from Sundas."

Serana frowned. "Wait…why are you not a fan of the Blades? Aren't they supposed to be on your side?"

Ketar sighed hard. "It's a long story."

She fell silent after that, thinking for a while before deciding to change the subject. "I only asked about the location because I noticed we were heading west."

He glanced back at her. "Okay?"

Serana's lips pursed. "I was reading one of your books while recovering, called _The Aetherium Wars_."

"Oh? What's it about?"

"Apparently, the Dwemer discovered a substance in Blackreach called Aetherium, with powerful magical properties. They ended up fighting several wars over it."

"That right?"

She nodded. "It also mentioned a Dwarven ruin called Arkngthamz out in the Reach, where traces of it might still be found."

"Hm…and let me guess: you want to take a look."

"If it's not too much trouble."

Ketar smiled back at her. "Not at all. Mark it on a map and we'll head there after our visit to Sky Haven."

Serana grinned. "Thank you."

Suddenly inspired, she quickly leaned forward and, pressing beyond the confines of her hood, placed a quick kiss on the side of his neck. Serana felt him tense at her touch, but not in alarm, in nervousness. Her better side told her to leave it alone, but there was something about him, something she'd seen that morning too, right after he'd kissed her, that made her… _other_ side take control. And with a wide, mischievous grin that he was either too tense or distracted to see, she firmly pressed her lips to the side of his neck.

His sudden, sharp intake of breath just spurred her on, one slow kiss after the next placed on his vibrantly pale skin. When she playfully let the tip of her tongue slip out, he finally responded.

"Serana?"

Kiss. "Yes, dear?"

"W-What are you doing?"

Grin. "Nothing, dear." Kiss.

"Sera—"

"Mmm…I'm gonna take a nap." Serana laid her head down on his shoulder, slumping against him dramatically. "Waking up in the middle of the day is _so_ exhausting."

She could _feel_ him try to calm himself down. Evidently, he succeeded. "Okay," he hissed through his teeth, spurring the horse forward.

Serana grinned from ear to ear as her eyes slipped shut. She couldn't help it. The initiation of this "courtship," as he so formally put it, had been _his_ decision. He couldn't rightly blame her for having a _little_ fun with it. She felt a long, calming breath exhaled in an attempt to still the heart that was practically pounding in her ear and had the sudden urge to break out cackling. She managed to keep it down, but kept smiling as she buried her face in the soft nape of his neck and took in a long breath of pure _him_. The deep, heady scent alone was enough to make her drowsy.

The even thudding of his finally-calmed heart managed to lull her to sleep.

…

" _This_ is Sky Haven Temple?"

Ketar grinned and nodded back at Serana, who was walking behind him as he led Stormbreaker to one of the water troughs maintained out front. The sloped, moss-covered pagoda that comprised the front entrance of the former Akaviri stronghold had seemed so imposing in his first trip there, but now…

 _It looks like the desperate gasps of a dying race…which is strangely appropriate._

"It…looks so different."

Ketar's blue eyes went wide as he turned to gape at her. "You've been here before?"

Serana tugged her lower lip into her mouth, one fang sticking out slightly as she nodded. "Once. My mother taught me that certain sects of the Akaviri studied Conjuration and necromancy at length. I came here to see if I could learn more about their methods, but…"

"It was an abandoned fortress, not a library."

Serana nodded. "I had _no_ idea what I'd really stumbled across."

Ketar smiled. "Well…then I'm glad I get to share it with you."

He reached back and offered his hand, which she took, allowing him to guide her through the massive double-doors that comprised the entrance. What greeted them on the other side was…well, he wasn't exactly surprised, but it still elicited quite the reaction. The first room of Sky Haven Temple was a massive, rectangular open space, dimly lit by a few torches and braziers scattered around the place. The walls and floor of the building were comprised of large, slate-gray stones, but one piece in particular immediately drew the eye. At one far end of the room was a wall comprised entirely of black rock, etched and carved with images of dragons, men, and the visage of a single gate to Oblivion.

Apparently, Serana's gaze was drawn to it as well. "Is that—"

"Alduin's Wall," he confirmed, leading her up to the sixty-foot-wide relief. "The Akaviri Dragonguard of old days carved it as both art and record." Ketar led her to the far left side of the relief, where numerous dragons were shown breathing fire on the forms and dwellings of men. Some of the humans were shown carting along heavy loads. "Here, it shows ancient Tamriel, in a time when dragons ruled Nirn and subjugated all mortals to their will." He slowly led her to the center of the sculpture, where three humans were arrayed in a trine below the massive head of a dragon. "And here, this dragon—the World-Eater himself—defeated by three Nord heroes with a Shout borne of fear and desperation."

Serana reached out to the central figure and traced her fingers over a thin, cylindrical object in his right hand. "What's this in his hand?"

" _That_ is the Elder Scroll I kept in Windstad Manor."

"That's how you knew to find it."

"It's how I knew that I _had_ to find it." Leaving that line of thought for now, he proceeded further right and pointed at the Oblivion symbol. "The Oblivion Crisis."

Serana nodded. "You told me about that."

He nodded and pointed at an image of lines of armored men charging against each other. "The current civil war."

She smirked and ran her hand over an image of a man in full armor and helmet, with a sword and shield blocking fire from a dragon, the wyrm having already slain several others. "Just a wild guess, but…I'm pretty sure this is you."

Ketar chuckled. "They didn't quite get my chin right."

"I noticed. I don't think you could grow a beard like that if you _tried_."

He arched an eyebrow at her teasing grin. "Really? Is that a challenge?"

Her sunset-colored eyes rolled. "Ugh, gods no. Beards that thick make men _way_ too prickly." Her lips tipped upward. "Especially when you get _close_."

Ketar's head shook as he grinned, his smile slowly fading as he turned back to the relief. "This is the prophecy revealed by the Elder Scrolls, of a time when Alduin would return and revive his dragon brethren." Ketar frowned and waved at the Wall. "This is where I learned how to defeat Alduin. That Shout they created—Dragonrend…I used the Scroll to learn it from the source."

"…from the source?"

He sighed. "It's complicated. Remember how I told Dexion that I'd read one of the Scrolls before?"

"Right. I figured it was that one, but…how did you learn it 'from the source'?"

Ketar frowned and tilted his head. "The Throat of the World."

Serana immediately straightened up.

"That's where those three heroes faced Alduin for the last time." He traced the outline of the central hero. "They brought the Scroll as a last resort. Because dragons are the children of Akatosh, god of time, they tend to be more attuned to the Scrolls, but also more vulnerable to their more…exotic effects."

"Meaning?"

He glanced back at her to gauge her reaction as he said, "Time travel."

"…you're shitting me."

"I _really_ wish I was." He sighed. "But, sadly, I am not. The three Nords lured Alduin to the Throat of the World, the highest peak in all Skyrim, hoping that the Aetherial energy there, plus Alduin's own considerable power, would combine with the Scroll to form what's known as a Dragon Break, which is what I used to look back and witness those events for myself. The Breaks are aberrations, wounds in time and space, where time diverges like a river." He snorted a laugh. "Or, at least, that's what most Imperial scholars say."

Serana just stared at him blankly.

Ketar couldn't help it, he broke out laughing. "I told you: anything having to do with Dragonborn business requires a long, convoluted explanation that's more theory and guesswork than actual recorded fact."

She snorted. "Clearly." Serana frowned. "Ketar…you're stalling."

His face fell.

She turned to face him and gently took his hand. "What happened at the Throat of the World?"

Ketar took a long breath, closing his eyes on the inhale, then opening them as his lungs filled completely. "I died."

…

 _"Akatosh,_ Lotbormah _,_ zu bolog _,_ aalhin kul siiv laas ko daar vulom _._ Ofan aaz wah hin Dovahkiin _."_

 _The words passed through his consciousness like echoes in the darkness, a darkness he was currently trapped in. No up, no down, no space, no concept of time. All alone._

 _Or so he thought._

 _"So close…"_

 _His attention immediately snapped to his left, the new voice echoing through the void. "Who's there?"_

 _He could feel no weapon in his hand, nothing on his person. Hell, he couldn't even feel his own_ _body_ _._

 _"Speak!" he shouted, more afraid than angry._

 _Suddenly, a hovering presence was felt at his back, and without his permission, his entire body began to shake. And then the darkness was gone, and he went from seeing nothing to seeing_ _everything_ _._

 _Including the massive, golden dragon currently staring at him like he was little more than transparent paper._

 _The sight froze him stock-still for several moments of pure silence before a single awed word passed his lips._

 _"Father?"_

 _…_

Serana stared at him like he'd just grown a second head…then cut off that head only to have two more grow from the stump. "You saw…Akatosh?"

Ketar nodded slowly. "Or, his avatar, at least. It wouldn't be the first time it's appeared to mortals. Akatosh intervened personally during the Oblivion Crisis to send Mehrunes Dagon back where he came from."

"Wh—I'm sorry, I'm just _desperately_ trying to understand this. You came face-to-face…with a god?"

He shrugged. "Depending on how you look at it, I've actually done that a _bunch_ of times, though typically with Daedra."

"Yeah, what is _up_ with that?"

Ketar arched an eyebrow. "You sound agitated."

Serana's eyes narrowed. "The College. I found the Black Star."

He shrugged. "So?"

"The Black Star, Dawnbreaker, Spellbreaker—just how many Daedra have you _spoken_ to?"

"Spoken to?" He looked up in thought. "I think I want to say all of them. As for how many I've helped—well…I think the grand total is eleven."

Serana's jaw dropped.

Ketar shrugged. "The rest I either screwed over or outright ignored." He caught Serana staring at him dumbly and smirked. "You should probably close your mouth before a fly walks in."

Blinking, she blushed self-consciously and shook herself. "I just…for a man who's only spent two years out in the world…you've certainly been busy."

Ketar grinned.

Serana looked off to the side in thought for a while before turning back to him. "So what happened next?"

He shrugged. "I don't really remember. Whatever he did must've brought me back from the brink of death, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up in High Hrothgar, surrounded by the Greybeards."

"The Greybeards."

"They taught me to how use my Voice, _and_ kept me safe during my recovery." Ketar cringed. "And…helped with something else."

"What?"

Ketar's lips pursed. "Right before he flew off, Alduin said something. 'My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals. Die now and await your fate in Sovngarde.' I told the Greybeards that as soon as I woke up, and they figured out that somehow, Alduin was using the dead souls of Sovngarde to heal himself by feeding off their energy. Which meant, also somehow…I had to follow him."

She resumed staring. "You have to die."

Ketar chuckled. "No. There's another way, but we have to find a dragon loyal to Alduin."

"Don't you mean 'had to'?"

He frowned deeply. "No. That's part of why I brought you here. I've been hesitating all this time, putting it off. It's…something I spoke with Lydia about, before I forged the Fury. When Alduin struck me down…Sera, he _broke_ me. And it wasn't just the fear of dying, it wasn't…" he sighed hard, "Lydia was there."

Her eyes went wide. "Oh…"

"He almost killed her. I jumped between her and his tail. Damn near shattered every bone in my chest taking that shot." He snorted. "Ultimately, I think _that's_ what killed me."

"Okay, when you say you died, do you mean—"

"I mean I _died_ , Sera. If I had to guess, Akatosh used his power to roll back my final moments to a point where they'd be able to stabilize me, then shoved my soul back into my body." A shuddering breath left his lungs. "But…just the fact that I came that close, and that if I hadn't pushed through, he would've…" his eyes slid shut, "there's no way she would've walked away from that fight if I'd been killed before driving him off." He turned to look at her. "I think… _that's_ where the doubt came from. The only time I've ever truly lost."

The room fell silent for a while, Ketar's words hanging in the air.

"You remember Dragonsreach?" he asked suddenly.

Serana turned to him. "Of course. It's the Jarl's hall in Whiterun."

He nodded. "That's where we planned to imprison the dragon. Only problem was, Balgruuf wouldn't let us use the building unless we found a way to stop the civil war. So, I sent word to Tullius and Ulfric, the uh, military leaders on both sides, and told them to meet at High Hrothgar to talk about our mutual dragon problem." Ketar smiled bitterly, shaking his head. "Getting them to agree to a temporary peace was…less than pleasant. And it was made even worse by the fact that Tullius decided to bring the Thalmor ambassador along."

"You're kidding."

"Nope," Ketar chuckled. "That Altmer witch was glaring at me the whole time." His smile faded. "But, after staring down the World-Eater himself, a little High Elf wench's gaze rates lower than a skeever, know what I mean?"

"I do."

His lips twitched with a brief smile. "Eventually, though…we came to an understanding."

…

 _Even Ketar couldn't decide if the pleading looks he was sending Lydia were intended for her to rescue him from this farce (and the massive headache it was creating) or to get it over with and assassinate both envoys (and rid him of the headache's cause). Either way, she just stood there with a pitying look as on either side of him, and the long, elliptical table he was currently seated at, General Tullius and Ulfric Stormcloak were going at it._

 _"If you think I'm going to sit here and let the people of Skyrim be_ insulted _in this manner—"_

 _"I don't much care_ what _you think, Ulfric! This isn't_ about _you!"_

 _Ulfric abruptly turned to a seated Ketar. "And what about you, Dragonborn? What do you think?" His furious eyes dared Ketar to disagree with him._

 _Tired, cranky, and trying to fight the urge to scream, Ketar looked between the standing Tullius and Ulfric, then just sighed and said, "Personally, I think you're_ both _idiots, but that's neither here nor there."_

 _"Why you little—"_

 _"How_ dare _you speak—"_

 _Ketar's fist slammed into the table's surface with a deafening crack. "_ Enough _!" His stormy blue eyes shifted from one of them to the other, as if daring them to speak. "I did not_ call _you here to bicker over politics. I called you here because out there," he pointed to the side, "right now, there is an army of immortal dragons roaming Tamriel, destroying everything in their path, and while you two are busy fighting_ each other _, the people of Skyrim—your people—are at their mercy." He snarled. "You should be ashamed of yourselves," he snorted, "bickering about land grabs and concessions." He put on a sarcastically curious look, pointing at both of them. "Tell me something, are your responsibilities to protect your people or to…" he shrugged, feigning nonchalance, "sit here and engage in a pissing contest with each other?"_

 _The elder Tullius snarled. "You've got quite the mouth, Dragonborn."_

 _"If the boot fits," Ketar replied in a biting tone._

 _"I would take care how you speak to us," Ulfric added warningly._

 _"Or_ what _?" Ketar asked as he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. "You'll leave?" He shrugged. "Don't expect me to come running the next time a dragon attacks Windhelm. Or Solitude." Ketar spotted Ulfric's hands curling into fists, and his bodyguard—that brute Galmar—began to surreptitiously reach for his weapon. "And if you're thinking about making a mess, know this: our hosts have been_ very _gracious and patient with_ both _of your stupid asses up to this point. Violate the grounds of neutrality, draw a_ single _weapon, and I guarantee that their patience will run out. As will mine. And though my body may not be a hundred percent just yet, I assure you…" the Dragonborn's eyes flashed with fire, "my Voice still works just fine."_

 _At that, Ulfric's hands loosened and Galmar reset his position._

 _Smirking dangerously, Ketar tilted his head briefly. "Now, put the measuring sticks away, pull your pants up,_ sit _down, and let's discuss this like rational human beings."_

 _Reluctantly, looking every bit like they both wanted to argue, Tullius and Ulfric exchanged a look before following his order._

 _"So," Ketar said wearily, feeling his headache returning, "based on the terms outlined, do we have an agreement?"_

 _Tullius looked down at the parchment handed to him by one of his scribes and pursed his lips, then looked to Ketar. "Based on these terms, the Empire is willing to submit to a temporary cease-fire."_

 _Ulfric did the same on his side, glaring at Ketar a moment later. "Do you jest? This is unconscionable! I am willing to agree to a fair deal, but to relinquish the Rift—"_

 _"Is a necessary compromise," Ketar interrupted. "You have your base within sight of the Empire's movements, he has his in sight of yours. Thus, you hold each other accountable."_

 _Ulfric scowled and began to rise again. "I will not stand here and allow you to give back to these_ dogs _what I have fought so hard to regain!"_

 _"_ Yes _, you are! Because if you don't, you'll lose it all_ anyway _."_

 _The Jarl's eyes narrowed. "I take care of my own, Dov. If you refuse to come to Windhelm's aid, it will not be to our detriment. The people of Skyrim are more resilient than you give us credit for." He snarled. "We don't_ need _you."_

 _As Ulfric and his envoy made ready to leave, a peculiar sound stopped them in their tracks. Specifically, Ketar's half-hysterical laughter. It lasted well over twenty seconds, and by the time he was halfway done, even the_ Greybeards _started looking worried._

 _"You," he managed between chuckles, "boneheaded…_ idiot _." Ketar looked up at Ulfric with storming blue eyes. "Do you really think it's that simple? Do you not_ comprehend _the threat we now face?" His smile became deadly and tinged with madness. "These wyrms you're so insistent on facing? They're no common beast or man you can just strike down, and their leader? Let's just say there's a_ reason _he's called the 'World-Eater.'" He alternated his gaze between Ulfric and Tullius. "Alduin has passage into Sovngarde. He_ feeds _off the souls of the dead. So in other words, you intend to fight off a murderous_ god _—alone—meanwhile the more of each other you kill, the stronger_ he _gets."_

 _Ketar snarled and braced his hands against the arms of his chair. "And in case you're delusional enough to think you can afford to make him stronger…" he pushed himself upright with a hiss of pain that could easily have turned into a scream, "I want you to take a good look at just what he's capable of."_

 _Ketar rose to his full height, his half-broken body bandaged and splinted in more places than any of them had ever seen. Several alarmed gasps sounded around the room, from both envoys and the Blades, who insisted on sending representatives. Lydia and the Greybeards, who'd seen it all before, just looked away in pity. The Thalmor—he didn't even spare them a glance._

 _His half-hysterical smile returned as he took in their reactions. "And_ I'm _the one who's supposed to_ kill _him."_

…

"Needless to say, Ulfric rolled over pretty fast after that."

"I would hope so."

Ketar smiled a little. "Sadly, my day wasn't even _close_ to over."

…

 _Lydia wordlessly offered to help him from the table as the envoys filtered out, but he waved her off, using the wooden cane provided by the Greybeards to hobble his way into a neighboring hallway. He saw Delphine and Esbern approach him from the table, and immediately felt his headache returning at the looks on their faces._

 _"We need to talk," Delphine said gravely, her blue eyes alight with a mixture of emotions._

 _Ketar sighed. "Then talk."_

 _She exchanged a look with the elder Esbern before turning back to him. "We know about Paarthurnax."_

 _He arched an eyebrow. "And?"_

 _"Do you know what he is?" Esbern asked gravely. "What he's_ done _?"_

 _Ketar felt a chill flush through his veins._

 _"I'll take that as a no," said Delphine. "The Greybeards like to paint him as some benevolent instructor who taught them how to use the Voice, but tell me…what do you know about his relationship with Alduin?"_

 _Ketar's eyes narrowed. "They knew each other. I never asked how."_

 _Her expression darkened. "Well you should have. Paarthurnax was Alduin's chief lieutenant during the war against mankind. He committed countless atrocities in his name. I don't care if the Greybeards see him as some reverential being—he needs to pay for what he's done."_

 _Ketar stared at her, his gaze turning to Esbern to see her expression reflected in his eyes, then back. He took a breath. "Let me ask you something."_

 _"All right?"_

 _He shifted to a more comfortable standing position and straightened up. "Were either one of you there?"_

 _Delphine blinked. "Excuse me?"_

 _"The first dragon war. Were you there?"_

 _"What does that have to—"_

 _"I mean," he smirked wryly, "Esbern, I could understand. No offense, old man, but…you_ do _look like you could've been there."_

 _Esbern sighed and shook his head as Delphine scowled._

 _"This isn't a_ game _," she snarled._

 _"No," Ketar interrupted sharply, almost growling, "it isn't. And after all the shit I had to put up with babysitting those two, I cannot_ believe _what I'm hearing right now." He huffed and shifted again. "We are standing on the brink of the_ end of the world _, Delphine, and you come to me with_ this _crap? Now? Some…vague declarations of atrocity from however many_ thousands _of years ago? If it's even true."_

 _Delphine gaped at him. "You think I'd lie to you?"_

 _"Honestly? With your hatred of dragons? I'd be hard-pressed to think of something you_ wouldn't _do to see one of them dead."_

 _"That isn't fair," Esbern intoned._

 _"And what about your judgment of Paarthurnax? Is that really fair? How long has it been since he helped mankind overthrow Alduin, hm? What has he done since then to earn your ire?"_

 _"That doesn't erase what he's—"_

 _"Of_ course _it doesn't, but what has he done since then?"_

 _Delphine exchanged a look with Esbern before responding. "Nothing."_

 _"Exactly. He's stuck himself on the top of this mountain—of his own free will, I might add—so that neither he nor people like you would ever be put in a situation where you would have to come to blows. He's dedicated himself to the pursuit of_ peace _. For an immortal with that much power, that's quite a sacrifice, a life of solitude and study. Without him, there would_ be _no Tamriel. This whole_ world _would be Alduin's domain." Ketar looked between them before turning to leave. "This conversation is over."_

 _"Do it or the Blades will no longer stand by your side."_

 _He came to an abrupt stop at Delphine's words, slowly turning back to her and feeling a fire rising in his chest. A vicious smile came to his face as he leaned his head toward them. "_ What _Blades?" He nodded at them with his eyebrows. "The two of you? Don't get me wrong, you're good, but you're not_ that _good." At their furious expressions, his own began to soften. "I get it. I do. Your entire order was wiped out by the Thalmor. You're looking for something to hate, something to fight, something to make yourselves believe it was all for a reason. But this is_ not _it. And maybe you can't see that because you're still in wartime, constantly looking over your shoulders, seeing enemies at every turn._

 _"But Paarthurnax?" He huffed. "Tell me something: when I went to fight Alduin, apart from Lydia, who was standing by my side? Because it wasn't the Blades." His eyes narrowed as he took a step toward them. "Without Paarthurnax, I wouldn't be_ alive _right now. Alduin would've devoured me on that peak…and all the rest of you would be_ screwed _." He smiled bitterly. "So, until you two can get over your prejudice and_ paranoia _…it is_ me _who will refuse to stand by_ your _side."_

 _With one last look at their shocked expressions, Ketar left the last of the Blades in favor of his temporary quarters and a warm bed._

…

Serana wrapped her arms around herself and shifted in place. "That's why you're at odds with them at the moment."

Ketar nodded. "All because I refused to murder my mentor for crimes that happened before even _you_ existed. And…" his eyes darkened, "it's ultimately the second reason we're here."

A door opening off to the side got Ketar's attention, and the blonde woman who stepped through stopped short at the sight of them, her eyes barely registering Serana before locking onto him. A grim expression came over her features as she strode over, stopping a short distance away from them and crossing her arms.

"Dov."

Ketar sighed. "Delphine."

"What are you doing here, Dov? You know we have nothing to say to each other until—"

"That's actually why I'm here."

She snorted. "Let me guess: you want to attempt to convince me to change my mind. Again."

He frowned deeply, casting a brief, apprehensive glance at Serana. "Or, at least…to see things in a different light."

Delphine sighed. "I'm listening."

Ketar looked at Serana strangely for a few moments, the vampire wondering at his gaze until he finally turned back to Delphine and spoke. "Have you ever…done something? Something so…vile, so horrific, so…" he looked down and away, " _shameful_ …that for a moment…you despised yourself more than all the monsters in the world?"

Delphine stared at him blankly. "No."

His gaze snapped back up to her, a wild sheen in his eyes. " _I_ have."

Serana's lips parted as an uneasy feeling stirred in her gut.

He wiped a hand over his lips and took a breath. "About a year ago, I was traveling between Dawnstar and Riften when I ran across a traveler asking for my help. I knew something was off, but by the time I figured out what my instincts were trying to tell me, the bastard had sunk his fangs halfway into my neck. I killed him, but I must've accidentally gotten his blood in my veins during the fight, because I began getting weaker over the course of the next three days."

Serana's blood went cold.

Ketar shrugged. "I chalked it up to my injuries, never even suspected the truth." He grimaced. "By morning of the fourth day, I was turned, and I had never before felt so utterly _violated_. So I hid myself, for three months, hating what I'd become while trying desperately to make the best of it."

"Wait," said Delphine quietly, "one year ago…that's when we were working together the _most_. How did I not see—"

"Because I didn't want you to." He smirked bitterly. "Fun fact: becoming a vampire, whether through supernatural influence or just the laws of adaptation, makes you _very_ adept at hiding what you really are. So, needless to say, improving my skills of Illusion was… _high_ on my list of priorities."

"But…you're not, now…are you?"

His head shook. "No, I'm not." A dark look passed over his eyes. "The problem wasn't just that I hated what I'd become. It was that I despised it so thoroughly that I wouldn't feed for long periods. Days, sometimes weeks. I got so fed up with the hunger that…" his face twitched in pain, "in despair…I locked myself away in an abandoned mine for almost a month." He snorted. "Hoping to die."

Serana felt an iron grip clench harder and harder around her heart with every word.

"But, alas, the will to live overpowered any self-hatred I could ever have mustered. So eventually, I let myself out and went looking for food. But I knew that if I fed, there would be nothing left, so…I waited and avoided all forms of life until I reached Silent Moons Camp, a bandit stronghold the Jarl of Whiterun had put a bounty on." His jaw clenched. "And I slaughtered every last one of them."

Delphine stared at him for a few moments before saying, "So your hunger made you strike down a few bandits. So what?"

That wild look in his eyes returned as his gaze locked onto her. "You don't understand, Delphine. I _butchered_ them, like _cattle_. Blade, claws, fangs—after a certain point, I couldn't even tell _what_ I was using anymore. All I know is that when I came to, it was morning, and the rising sun laid the whole sordid affair out in the light of day. Not a _single_ one of those bandits was left in one piece. Limbs severed, viscera spilled out and sprayed like confetti, heads torn clean off…" His lips trembled and eyes began to glisten at the recollection. "They may have been a bunch of lowlife thugs, but no one deserves to die like that…torn apart by a wild beast."

Ketar's eyes were wiped with his forearm before they snapped back up to Delphine. "So, all that to say…I _know_ what it is to be a monster. I know how it feels to stand in wreckage of your own creation and be so utterly _horrified_ that you just want it to _stop_. The only thing that kept me from putting a dagger through my own heart—" he snorted, "—apart from cowardice, was the knowledge that without me, the World-Eater would consume _all_. And for a while, that was the only reason I lived. But I couldn't live like _that_. So I spent every waking moment looking for a cure—and I found it. And every choice I've made since has been to spite what I once was. Not atonement, duty…and the remembrance of what I might've become." He took a deep breath. "So, if you can forgive someone like that…who's trying to make something _good_ of their life from the ashes of atrocity…why not Paarthurnax?"

Delphine sighed and rubbed her temples. "It's…not that simple."

"Yes, it is," he interrupted softly. "You've _simply_ chosen not to. Just tell me: is it worth the isolation?" He frowned in a mix of regret and pity. "Is it worth standing alone, to hold onto this ancient feud?"

Her jaw tightened, but she kept silent.

Ketar blinked and turned for the exit. "I hope so, or else you should make a different choice."

Serana followed him closely, suddenly feeling numb.

He stopped in the doorway, looking back at Delphine. "I'll be waiting for the day you do."

…

Serana was lost in thought for a long time, halfway to Arkngthamz, in fact, before she finally broke the silence.

"That story…that's why you wouldn't—"

"Yeah," Ketar interrupted simply. "Well," he shrugged, " _that_ and your father's an asshole."

Serana's lips twitched with a smile. "But then…why don't—"

"Why don't I see _you_ like that?"

Her lips pursed as she nodded.

Ketar sighed hard. "Look, Sera…there's a balance that has to be maintained, both in the world and in ourselves. Something inside me… _revolted_ at the presence of my vampirism, of that darkness. I'm convinced I couldn't handle that power because I was never meant to have it, because I _already_ had something inside me."

Serana frowned and shook her head. "I'm confused. What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath. "Power corrupts, Serana, and infinite power corrupts infinitely. If someone receives power before they're ready, or a power they were never meant to have, it _destroys_ everything they are." He looked back at her. "I know you know this. By every indication, that's what happened to your father."

She nodded slightly.

Ketar's eyes softened as they gazed into hers. "That's why you're different, Sera. This…gift—or curse—you never let it define you. You use it for your own ends, _you_ control _it_ …not the other way around." He turned forward and looked down. "You know, it might have been disorienting and…probably a little terrifying, waking up a thousand years later, but…that time, that gap? You had a thousand years less to let it drive you mad." He looked back at her. "Whatever else you feel, your mother sticking you in that crypt might have been the best thing that ever happened to you."

Serana stared back at him for a long moment before turning and staring off into space.

"So, all that to say…I don't hate vampirism itself, despite its source. I hate those who use its power for ill ends…and I hate what it does to _me_ , because I know I can't handle it." He smiled. "In a way, I envy you that. Because you _mastered_ your darkness."

Serana felt her heart swell, and before she knew it, her hand was reaching out to take his. He held it back firmly, the warmth of his fingers reaching hers through his fingerless leather gloves as they trotted along on Stormbreaker. A flicker of a smile was seen on his lips before a large stone building came into sight in the near distance.

Ketar nodded toward it. "I do believe that's Arkngthamz."

Serana glanced over at it, mentally comparing it to the imagery described in the book, and nodded. "Yes, but there's no telling what we'll find inside, so—"

"I'll be careful," he interrupted smoothly, with a cocky grin.

His hand disengaged from hers just long enough for him to slide from the saddle and offer her help down. Serana's inhuman perception allowed her to stare outright for a moment longer without him noticing, and there was one thing she noticed one thing above all else. That grin he was wearing…it no longer looked forced, like a fabrication. She hadn't noticed it before because that was all she'd seen, but now that he was looking at her, like something precious…

Serana reached out and took his hand, accepting his assistance and gently alighting on the ground a moment later.

"You okay?" he asked.

She glanced up at him confusedly and nodded. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Ketar shrugged. "Dunno. You just seem a million miles away at the moment."

Serana smiled and slid a hand over his forearm. "I'm fine, Kay. Just thinking about what's next."

He nodded and turned toward the building. "Come on."

As she followed behind, Serana double-checked that she was out of his line of sight before releasing a small, shuddering breath.

 _No one…_ no one _…has_ ever _looked at me like that._

* * *

AN: I actually have a guaranteed double release for you guys, today and tomorrow. I started writing this chapter thinking that I had a lot less to go through than I really did, and it came out somewhere near 15,000 words, so…I split it up. I want to leave this chapter out there alone for a while, just so I see what you guys think without the other one sidetracking you, but if I get enough response before this time tomorrow, I'll release the second one early.

Until then, I hope you enjoyed this and are looking forward to more.

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - Sovngarde: Alduin's Wall/history lesson/visions of Akatosh; The Gathering Storm: appeal for Paarthurnax/Ketar's admiration for Serana/end of chapter


	11. Lost to the Ages

AN: Wow. You guys responded to the last chapter BIG TIME. Glad you're loving to read this as much as I am writing it. Here you go.

* * *

" _Turn back…_ "

Ketar tried to ignore the whispers in his head as they entered the ruin, he really did. The problem was, he wasn't the only one hearing them.

"Kay…I'm not going crazy, am I?"

He frowned. "No. There's something here…or someone." He glanced around and slowly drew the Blade of Woe in an underhanded position. "Be on your guard."

She gave him a small nod, left hand glowing with magical energy as she no doubt primed one of her kinetic bolts while her right brandished her Elven dagger. Together, they silently proceeded through a large stone passage, flanked on either side by massive pillars, some of which were toppled. The passage led to a fallen pillar laid over a running stream, with a waterfall on the right and a massive open doorway ahead. Quickly moving across, the same whispered voice was heard once again.

" _Turn back…_ "

Ketar sighed hard and muttered, "Perfect."

Serana arched an eyebrow at him. "Ghost?"

He threw her a deadpan look. "Ghost."

As it turned out, the entrance of Arkngthamz itself was gigantic, because three passages later, they ended up in a chamber with another stream, this one large and open, with a long opening above them letting sunlight in. Serana and Ketar came to a stop sixty feet above the stream, on one of two opposing sides of a ravine overlooking the water. Below, on a rock in the middle of the stream, there was the partially decomposed armored body of a Nord woman, body bent at an odd angle. Ketar wondered at it until he looked up to a higher level and saw a thick log hanging over the drop. He winced.

 _Ugh. Bad way to go. Probably instantaneous though._

His high-gazing eyes were suddenly drawn by movement from the other side of the ravine, and they widened slightly a moment later when he identified the mangled, twisted forms of several Falmer. He grimaced, as he usually did at the sight of the repulsive creatures, and sheathed his dagger while preparing a plasma bolt in his left hand. Then, he noticed that none of them were snarling or pulling out weapons, and let the spell fizzle out. He motioned silently to Serana, who followed him toward another downed pillar that led down, away from their line of sight and to the Nord's body.

Frowning, Ketar bent over the armored corpse, his hand stopping when it touched something hard and pulling out a journal. Seeing as how this expedition was her idea, he handed it to Serana and let her skim through it. Well, that is, until _she_ showed up. By appearing quite literally out of thin air.

Ketar nearly leapt out of his skin, hand immediately going to his knife when a pale, transparent blue silhouette mirroring the dead body appeared right in front of him.

" _Turn back,_ " she said firmly, finally loud and clear.

"What the hell…" Ketar sighed hard, trying to calm his breathing. "Look, lady, I don't know who taught you manners, but sneaking up on unsuspecting travelers is—"

" _You should not be here. This place consumes all who enter._ "

Serana stepped forward with a smirk. "We're hardier than most, trust me, Katria."

Ketar glanced back at her. "Who?"

She held up the book. "This journal. It belongs to someone named Katria. I'm guessing that's _you_." She pointed at the ghost.

The ghost nodded. " _I came here looking for power. All I found was death. An earthquake…_ " She looked up, pointing to the log Ketar had seen before.

He winced again. "That couldn't have been fun."

" _Apparently being dead screws with your memories, because I don't actually remember much of the fall._ " Katria turned back to him. " _Just the impact. Word of advice: if you go further in, trust nothing. Not even the ground beneath your feet._ "

Ketar bowed his head slightly. "Understood. Any other advice?"

She frowned and looked to the side. " _I…no…like I said, my memories…everything's a bit of a fog._ "

He nodded. "That's pretty common with ghosts, especially when they're killed by accidents." Ketar looked to the other end of the rock, seeing the beginnings of Dwemer metal and large pipes, one of which was bridging the gap between him and a long metal passageway. "Come on." He waved them forward, Serana taking point while Katria stood watching them.

" _Wait,_ " the ghost called, stopping them. " _If you're still going in…I want to come with you. This was my life's work." Her lips pursed. "Even in death, I would see it done._ "

Serana exchanged a look with Ketar before shrugging and replying, "Hey, the more the merrier."

Katria pulled an Aetherial weapon from her back, a bow of Dwarven design, and sidled up next to Ketar, who she gave a sideways look. " _Why did you say that ghosts lose their memory when they die by accident?_ "

Ketar frowned as he followed Serana into a flooded chamber. "When it's an accident, it's a surprise, not usually much time to process before it's over. But when it's a violent death, especially from someone they know…there's a lot of visceral emotion that comes with that, and it keeps their memories sharp."

" _I see…_ "

"So, to sum up: dying sucks, but at least you don't really remember yours."

Katria snorted a laugh. " _Right._ "

They used a set of large pipes as a catwalk to ascend to a higher level of the Dwemer-constructed structure, a sudden burst of steam grabbing their attention as a port in one of the pipes released a small, golden spider with a gyro where its body should be.

Serana sighed hard and looked to Ketar. "Do you want to take this or should I?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "This was _your_ idea."

She sighed again and charged up her kinetic bolt, releasing it a second later and shattering three of the machine's legs. Unable to function properly, the spider fell limp a few moments later, presumably to wait for repairs. Several other Dwarven constructs attempted to waylay them, but between the three companions (Ketar mentally noted that there was no way Katria would've gone down in a fight), they posed little threat. Probably the worst part of the whole ordeal was tangling with the Falmer—as it was every time he entered one of these ruins. Perhaps it was just how gods-awfully _ugly_ they were. Or maybe it was the knowledge that those twisted creatures had once been a proud race of Elves, corrupted by time and horrors untold.

Either way, every time his blade or magic cut one of them down, he felt a tandem surge of pity and satisfaction as he laid to rest another tortured remnant of the Falmer civilization. Throughout their journey through Arkngthamz, Ketar never once drew his sword, preferring to use the Blade of Woe or magic, and even he had to wonder why. After a while, he figured he simply didn't want to waste that power slaying subpar enemies. Serana's knowledge and Katria's journal proved invaluable, since the Dwemer apparently had something to hide and sealed the paths ahead with locks only meant to open when subjected to a certain sound.

It was small fortune that the Dwemer's tonal triggers (that's what Katria called them) were still standing and able to be activated simply by being struck. One metal passage after the next yielded to the three companions, their weapons and magic practically rolling over anything in their way. It felt like such a routine event that Ketar barely even had to think to stay out of harm's way, instead letting his mind wander.

 _After this…I don't even know what we'll do. Taking down Isran probably burned my bridge with the Dawnguard, and there's no way I'll be able to take Harkon's clan down alone. Aside from that, the last Elder Scroll is_ still _missing, which means either Harkon already has it, or it's so well-hidden that_ no one _can find it. Either way, neither side has the complete picture just yet, which puts us in an…awkward stalemate._

Ketar was suddenly snapped from his thoughts by Katria's voice.

" _Here's where I fell,_ " she said, standing at the edge of a drop. " _Feels like ages ago._ "

Ketar blinked several times before really stopping to observe their surroundings. He immediately identified the room as the very top of the ravine they'd seen coming in, with an open rock ceiling and several conifer trees scattered about.

" _Hey, there's my bow!_ " She pointed at a log a short distance off. " _There, out on the log! I_ wondered _what happened to it._ "

He exchanged a glance with Serana, who shrugged and said, "I've never really been a bow person."

Ketar's tilted his head briefly before saying, "Suit yourself," and moving toward the log.

"Be careful," said Serana.

He threw her a wide, cocky grin before slowly making his way to the end of the log, where a beautiful Dwarven bow sat, perfectly balanced on the log's center, as if it wanted to be there. Carefully, he bent down and reached out, grabbing it by the handle and lifting its surprisingly light metal form in his left hand.

" _Zephyr is its name,_ " Katria said. " _Take good care of it for me._ "

Ketar nodded his agreement, then caught sight of Serana's mildly worried gaze and felt a small surge of vindictive mischief. Right before he intentionally swayed on the edge of the log, as if to fall, then easily steadied himself when Serana called out his name in alarm and started to lunge forward. He laughed and easily strode off the wooden ledge, hopping his way back to solid ground as she just stared at him, that stare quickly morphing into a full-on, _furious_ glare. He barely had time to register danger before he was gasping for breath from a powerful punch to the solar plexus.

"That is _not_ funny!" Serana yelled, her voice cracking on the tail end of the sentence.

Still coughing, Ketar looked up to see a mixture of anger and pure terror in her eyes, and immediately felt red-hot shame wash over him. Fuming and breathing heavily, she turned away and started pacing, prompting him to lay down the bow and cough his way over to her. She resolutely refused to face him.

"Sera—"

"I am _not_ talking to you right now."

He sighed and mentally kicked himself. Hard. "Fine," he said quietly. "Then just listen. I'm sorry."

Serana stayed facing away from him.

"I wasn't thinking, I just—" Another sigh as he cautiously wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted softly.

Her breathing stilled.

"Growing up, I was taught how to fight, how to think, how to survive." He leaned into her, his head coming to rest against the back of her head. "I never learned _this_. So…be patient with me?"

She turned in his grip to meet his eyes as he looked down at her pleadingly.

"Please?"

Serana's eyes closed as she sighed and shook her head. "What the hell am I gonna do with you?" Her slender arms wrapped around his midsection as she pressed her head into his chest. "Don't…do that again."

"Done," he said, unable to keep the relief from his voice.

Off to the side, Katria cleared her throat loudly, catching their attention. " _If you two are done, I believe we're near the end._ "

Serana and Ketar exchanged one last look before nodding to Katria. He grabbed Zephyr on the way and noticed a switch on the upper right side of the hilt, flicking it upward and gaping when the metal arms of the bow began to retract into themselves, eventually folding inward and collapsing entirely into the hilt.

Katria chuckled at the dumbfounded look on its face. " _Told you it was special. The Dwarves designed it as an assassin's weapon, highly concealable and able to draw and release faster and harder than most other bows. A 'hybrid compound,' they called it._ "

Ketar stared at the bow, now a small cylinder about eight inches across, and smiled. "Rest assured, this thing is never gonna leave my side."

Ketar used a small metal clip on the side of one of the collapsed arms to affix the hilt to the back of his belt, right above the sheathed Blade of Woe. With a glance at a similarly impressed Serana, they pressed on and followed the ghost further in.

…

A hundred more Falmer and Dwemer automatons later, the three companions found themselves face-to-face with an interesting conundrum. Specifically, a sequential tonal lock requiring multiple triggers to open. Five, to be precise, and in a specific order.

"Five triggers," Ketar said, "a hundred twenty possible combinations."

" _And knowing the Dwemer,_ " said Katria, " _getting a single answer wrong will reward us with a nasty surprise._ "

He nodded in agreement, spotting the corpse of someone else near the locked door, various scorch-marks all over his body. Ketar hummed in interest as he rifled through his pockets, running across a bloodstained note scrawled in surprisingly neat handwriting.

"Got something," he called out. "Apparently this guy tried a few combinations and managed to get the first few nailed down before the defenses killed him."

Serana, meanwhile, was looking through Katria's journal. "Yeah…Katria had something in here that might help too. Take a look."

Ketar jogged over and stood next to Serana as they perused the book, the ghostly form of their companion pacing idly next to the door and looking for any active defenses.

"If we take this one…"

"Uh huh."

"And then consider the tonal step between these two…"

"Yeah, yeah, I see it."

"And then overlay this one—"

"Oh—that's _genius_!"

Serana grinned up at him saucily. "Flatterer."

Ketar smirked. "Have to get my points in somewhere." He reached to the back of his belt and pulled Zephyr free, triggering its activation sequence and watching in muted awe as it unfolded into a full weapon. A hard breath was exhaled. "Okay." Reaching over to a nearby Falmer corpse, he appropriated five arrows and tucked four of them into his belt, the last going on the drawstring. "Time to see what this thing can do."

His left hand gripped the hilt of the bow, thumb bracing the crude arrow on the right side of the handle while his right hand nocked it and drew back the string. Ketar released a long breath as he pulled back, feeling his arms and shoulders endure much less strain than usual and noting that, with his dragon blood and the strength that came with it, he could fire this thing all day and not get tired. He drew in another breath, slowly, lining up his shot with the first tonal trigger.

And then he loosed.

The second arrow was nocked and drawn back before the vibrations from the first trigger had dissipated. It released a split-second later into the second trigger, and the third and fourth followed even faster, in a torrent, as he started to get the hang of his new weapon. The final trigger was hit with a full draw, and a particularly loud vibration sounded throughout the chamber as the massive door before them opened outward with a groan. Ketar laughed at the sight, along with Katria, while Serana was just staring at him. He noticed her gaze and started staring back.

"Sera? You okay?"

She just gulped and nodded, and in the dim light, he caught just a hint of blush.

Grinning, Ketar and the others proceeded beyond the door to find a piece of glowing blue material, semi-circular and engraved with Dwemer markings.

Serana's eyebrows hiked upward. "Is that—"

" _Yes,_ " Katria interrupted. " _Aetherium. Some of the last in all of Tamriel._ " She frowned. " _But it seems…incomplete._ "

Serana nodded slowly. "Considering how much blood was spilled over this, the Dwemer probably split it up so no one would have enough to work with."

"As a way of maintaining the balance of power," Ketar concluded.

She gave him a nod and reached out to take the shard. Serana turned to him abruptly, holding it out. "Do you think you can—"

He held up a hand to stop her and took the Aetherium shard with the other. "Say no more."

His hands surged with magic and flowed through the familiar circular pattern of opening the rift, depositing the shard inside and keeping it sealed away for the moment. When he was done, he noticed that Serana and Katria were off talking in hushed tones and looking over the contents of the journal.

"Ladies?"

They looked up at him.

He shrugged with his arms. "Anyone want to clue me in?"

Katria cleared her throat. " _Before I died, I discovered the locations of three other shards scattered across Skyrim._ " She glanced at Serana before turning back to Ketar. " _If you don't mind, I'd like to go look for them._ "

"To finish what you started," said Ketar.

She nodded.

Serana shrugged. "Hey, well, this was _your_ quest to begin with. If that's your choice, _we're_ not gonna get in your way."

Katria smiled. " _Thank you. Both of you. I hope to see you again soon, but until then, good luck in your ventures._ "

"You too," Ketar replied, watching as she thinned out and vanished into thin air. A long sigh passed his lips. "Well…now that that's done, what do you say we get outta here?"

Serana groaned. "Oh, yes _please_. I've had just about enough of Dwemer ruins for one day."

A smile came to his features as he took her hand in his, both walking back where they'd come from before Ketar stopped suddenly and started to grin when something to the side caught his eye.

"Kay, what are you—oh no. No-no-no—"

"Come on, Sera. It'll be fun!"

"Your definition of fun and mine seem to be _very_ different!"

Ketar just laughed as he half-dragged Serana to the edge of a drop overlooking the river near the entrance, laughing harder when he protectively curled both arms around her and leapt off the side.

He Shouted, " _Feim_!" right before they hit the water, causing Serana to gape at her sudden incorporeal nature for a split-second before they were both utterly drenched.

…

She was faking her anger.

Ketar knew it as soon as they climbed out of the water and she started glaring at him—which was usually intimidating but not so much this time, considering she looked like a drenched puppy. His side-stitching laughter got him a hard smack to the shoulder, but not much else. She didn't retreat or even grumble when he planted a loud, playful kiss on her wet cheek. By the time they got outside it was already nightfall, so a great deal colder, and though she said the cold never bothered her, Serana did _not_ look comfortable in her wet clothes. To say nothing of how the very-mortal Ketar was feeling.

Needless to say, as soon as they found Stormbreaker and a decent clearing, Ketar set up a tent and piled up dry wood, lighting it up with dragonfire as he was unwilling to further exert himself after the day they'd had. Seeing as how he would quickly catch hypothermia if he stayed in his wet clothes, he'd quickly removed his Guildmaster armor and stayed in his damp tunic and trousers while Serana excused herself to the tent. At present, he was poking the fire with a stick and chewing strips of dried meat from his saddlebags as he waited for the flames to rise high enough to cook with. Serana was still busy doing something in the tent when he heard a branch snap somewhere in the forest.

Ketar was on his feet in an instant, dark blue eyes scanning the empty darkness as the silence of the night was only broken by the crackling of the fire and the occasional hooting of an owl. A loud rustling thud sounded on his left, causing him to jump and turn toward the source only to see Serana's armor lying next to the fire, looking wrinkled from being tossed. Turning to the tent, the only likely source, Ketar's jaw dropped halfway to the ground before he caught it and forced himself not to stare as Serana strode out in little more than a pair of form-fitting black trousers and a small chest wrapping covering the important bits.

Quickly sitting back down at the fire's edge, Ketar coughed softly and stared into the flames, hoping the glow of the fire would hide his massive blush.

 _I knew she was strong, but I thought it was mostly, you know…_ vampire _, and all that. Those abs…_

He was snapped from his thoughts by a quiet, tired sigh from behind, the log he was sitting on rustling and creaking as Sera stepped over it to sit next to him. She leaned against him and actually started cuddling his side as her raven head laid on his shoulder. Without even thinking, his left arm came up around her shoulders, gently pulling her further into him while she reached over to his right hand and threaded her fingers through his. A quiet, contented breath exited his lungs as he took in the heat of the fire and the woman curled up against him.

 _I never knew vampires could be so…warm._

Ketar made the mistake of looking down at her, his breath catching and blush intensifying when he met her glowing eyes and caught sight of her pale lips slightly parted. Softly, without a single exchanged word, he leaned down and captured her lips with his, moving against her with tender, reluctant advances. Her left hand came up to caress his cheek and jaw, her body angling to be facing him more directly as she turned her head and deepened their embrace. A soft mewling noise came from his throat when he felt her tongue flicker against his, her gentle, confident motions steadily turning him into butter even as an unfamiliar and infuriating feeling filled his veins.

With a quiet gasp, he broke the kiss and pulled away, his breathing heavy with both excitement and frustration.

"Kay?" Serana asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Ketar resumed staring into the fire.

Serana shuffled and took his right hand in both of hers. "What's wrong?"

"I…" His earlier words came rushing back in a whisper. "I don't know how to do this." His eyes reluctantly met hers. " _Any_ of this. This is…the first time in my life where I feel… _completely_ lost." He barked an incredulous laugh. "All my power, all my skill and…a little _romance_ is what lays me low?"

She chuckled warmly. "Trust me, you wouldn't be the first to say that."

Ketar gave her a vexed look. "But here you are, right here, this…incredible, _beautiful_ creature, and you _know_ the steps. We've barely started, and you already know how to play me like a fiddle. A-And me?" He huffed and shrugged. "What can _I_ do? Scare the crap out of you trying to get even for that little…stunt you pulled on the road."

"… _that's_ what that was about?"

He groaned. "You're missing the point." His eyes met hers, a desperate note to his tone. "I have _no_ idea what I'm doing. Or what _you're_ even doing with me." He snorted a bitter laugh and turned his gaze skyward. "I feel like a complete idiot."

Serana's left hand drifted up to his neck and turned him back to her, her thumb stroking his pulse point. "Stop."

He blinked. "Stop…what?"

"Just… _stop_ ," she sighed, eyes warming with compassion. "You don't have to _know_ everything, Kay, and you don't _have_ to be the best _all the time_. I know you're used to it; you've even come to _expect_ it from yourself…but you need to _stop_."

Ketar looked away.

"Back in Whiterun, you told me you wanted to be open. Well, being open means letting yourself be vulnerable to someone else. To me."

He shrugged despondently. "And I have…or I've _tried_ to."

Serana smiled. "And where am I right now? Sitting with you, in the middle of a forest, half-clothed and trying to make out." Her grin widened as he blushed even brighter. "So trust me, you're doing just fine."

Ketar gaped and stared at her. "But I—and you—you're so good at—"

"I know," she interrupted before he could descend further down that line of thinking. A cocky grin came to her lips. "I'm good at most things." She repeatedly tapped a finger against his chest. "Just—like—you. But like you, I have my own faults and shortcomings. Like I said before…we all have our insecurities. Anyone who says otherwise is lying to you."

He gulped and looked down.

"I showed you mine, and you accepted it." Serana tipped his head up with a finger on his chin. "My turn." She leaned in closer, gazing directly into his eyes. "I—do—not—want—perfection. I don't care." She drew even closer, her lips brushing against his and making his breath catch as her voice went quiet. "I want _you_."

Ketar held her gaze for a few silent moments before he visibly gulped and answered softly, "Okay."

Slowly, tenderly, even more so than before, their lips met once again, Ketar surprised anew at the warmth that flooded him at her touch, both in his mouth and with her hand on his chest. Her fingers danced over the dark blue fabric of his tunic, brushing against his pectorals as her tongue flicked over his and one of her fangs gently nipped his lower lip. The same infuriating inadequacy tried to rise up again, but the echo of her words quickly struck it down as he drank in her overwhelming affection with a silent promise to catch up.

Because if she did _this_ to him every time they kissed, he was going to die _long_ before his twenty-first birthday.

…

When they finally pulled away, Ketar's face was completely flushed, and Serana was pleasantly surprised to find her own burning up quite a bit. She preened a bit at his dumb, awestruck stare, letting a small grin come to her lips as she carded one hand through his hair and leaned back in with the intention to cuddle against his chest.

She never got the chance.

Ketar shoved her off, both falling in separate directions when she heard a telltale whistle through the trees, an ebony arrow lancing through the space where his head had just been. A deep, profound silence overtook the clearing for about a second after the arrow flew past.

And then they came out like a flood.

Two, three, four vampires sprinted into the clearing toting various weapons, while a fifth one stayed in the shadows of the tree line taking potshots with a bow. All vampires, no thralls. Serana had the misfortune of recognizing their leader, a bat-faced female vampire with a wickedly jagged sabre of Daedric make. Serana looked around wildly for her dagger, remembering a split-second later that she'd left it in the tent. Seeing this, and that Ketar was also unarmed, the vampire leader gave them a grin that was all teeth and surged toward the Dragonborn with a snarl.

Serana's orange eyes darted about, landing and stopping on a glossy obsidian form sitting next to her armor. Her half-clothed body became a blur as it lunged toward her new ebony sword, the _shing_ from its draw ringing through the air even as she dashed past the fire. A loud _clang_ sounded in the clearing as she intercepted the vampire leader mid-lunge, stopping her from reaching Ketar and leaping up to nail another one in the face with a vicious jump-kick. Two blows were deflected and countered with a shallow stab to the gut that would've landed had the other vampire not thrust her hips backward.

The rest of the assassins continued on undeterred, despite Serana's attempts to waylay them, and she looked back, briefly panicking when she saw Ketar just standing there, still unarmed. And then she caught sight of something in his hand, and saw the downright _predatory_ smile on his face.

An expression that was quickly mirrored in her own when he slapped Nocturnal's Embrace to his chest and became one with the darkness.

…

The old familiar touch of his Nightingale armor clung to every inch of his body as the vampires who'd been eyeing him like a meal suddenly stopped short in uncertainty.

"What are you fools _waiting_ for?!" their leader roared from where she was tangling (without much success) with Serana.

Ketar answered that question first.

Lunging forward, ebony dagger clutched in his left hand and the Nightingale Blade unfolding in his right, Ketar wasted no time in laying on the heat, his weapons clashing with theirs as his midnight-encased form weaved in and out of the three that were assaulting him. A slash aimed right below his ribs was deflected by a wing-block with his sword and countered with a backward stab with his dagger. The blade dug into the thigh of the attacking vampire, the two at his front moving in from opposite sides, one dual-wielding axes, the other toting a greatsword. They swung in opposite diagonal directions, with strength that would give him no chance of blocking and leave him no room to maneuver.

If he couldn't withdraw, he would simply go _through_ them.

" _Wuld-Nah-Kest_!"

Ketar streaked past and between them, his weapons trailing behind and slicing both vampires across the lower chest as he shot toward the far end of the clearing. He heard the whistle of an incoming arrow from behind and spun toward it a split-second too late, a shock of agony lancing through his right shoulder when the barbed arrowhead dug through a chink in his armor. The pain alone made him drop his sword, and only a hastily-erected ward with his suddenly empty left hand deflected the second arrow to fly his way. The three other assassins were rapidly recovering, and this archer was too skilled for him to bend down and retrieve either of his weapons.

His left hand dipped to his side and deployed his Nightingale Bow, a quiver forming at his back as he ducked under another arrow and used an arm of his bow to snap the arrow in his shoulder in half. The arrowhead was still buried under his skin, but the shaft at least wouldn't get in the way. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Ketar twisted around another shot and pulled three arrows from his quiver, nocking all of them at once and aiming at the incoming vampires. He released the shot a second later, only two of them finding their marks as the third—the one with the axes, managed to deflect it with his weapons.

A rapid draw and release got the archer to back off for a second before Ketar sent more arrows at the other assassins, his shoulder aching more and more with every shot. When the three started closing to striking distance, the pain got so bad that he actually let out a cry of pain, catching Serana's attention for a moment and allowing her to be clubbed in the temple with the pommel of the leader's sword. A spark of rage ignited in Ketar's gut as he ran out of arrows, his bow swinging and catching the first vampire in the chin as he ducked away from a swing that would've taken his head off. His Voice flared in his chest and released when two vampires tried the same opposite-end move as before.

" _Feim_!"

Their weapons passed right through him, their attacks colliding with each other and leaving them completely exposed as the severed arrowhead in Ketar's shoulder fell from his intangible body. When he became solid once more, the ache was still there, but muted and not growing. He was almost sure the presence of the arrowhead had less to do with it than the strength of his anger. Two rapid bow strikes to the vampires' heads sent them reeling, but he knew that without something sharp or extremely hard, there was no way he'd be able to kill them. Well, physically anyway.

So when the third vampire lunged forward with a strike that separated him from his bow, he leapt and lithely climbed up his attacker's form, one leg curling around his weapon arm, the other bracing knee-first against his neck. And then Ketar twisted his hips, dislocating the vampire's shoulder and causing him to scream in pain and drop his mace as he collapsed to his knees. Ketar rolled for the weapon, grabbing it on the way up and using it to deflect an incoming arrow while spinning into a strike in the same motion. The first mace-blow dented one vampire's greatsword, and a second was caught between the other vampire's two axes. That leverage was used to wrench the hammer from his grip, once again leaving him utterly disarmed.

Dual-axe pressed the attack, forcing Ketar to withdraw by the step and actually jump over the campfire as his hands flared with magic and came together in a powerful channeling. When the attacking vampire leapt over the flames in a falling double-strike, Ketar released the spell with a yell, a searing-hot bolt of glowing plasma burning straight through his chest and incinerating his heart. Two steel axes fell to the ground with a massive pile of dust as the clearing fell silent for just a moment, everyone having stopped. And then the vampires surged forward with renewed fury, inhuman power lending speed to their steps. Another ebony arrow nearly tore a hole through Ketar's neck, his stance low and primed for a dash in any direction when suddenly, a gentle blue glow caught his attention.

Behind the midnight-black mask of his hood, Ketar's eyes widened and his predatory smile returned.

The light from the tent began to intensify as the sapphire on Ketar's ring also began to glow, his right hand flaring with power as an unusually defined _shing_ split the air. The advancing vampires stuttered in their steps for just a moment, stopped in their tracks by the sight of his new weapon slapping against his palm, midnight-black save for the glowing sapphire in its pommel. Then, foolishly, they kept coming. The vampire with the previously dislocated shoulder was up first with his mace, swinging twice and snarling at the way that Ketar practically danced around his now-clumsy strikes.

Ketar's form flickered eerily as the vampire charged toward him, then vanished for a moment before reemerging to the left of where he'd swung, body and cape twirling in a whirlwind of black as Dragonborn's Fury cleaved the fiend's head from his shoulders. The hiss of rapidly forming dust split the night air as Ketar's most recent kill gave the others a moment of pause and him a moment of rest. A moment to look and see Serana expertly dueling the master vampire and twisting around her in an inhuman display of skill and grace.

And then he noticed she was still half-naked and forced himself to focus.

Roaring in fury, the greatsword-toting vampire lunged forward with an overhead strike that would likely have cut him directly in two, armor or no armor. Smiling malevolently, Ketar coiled up and surged toward him, sword swinging horizontally and aiming for the dent he'd created earlier. His expert aim was rewarded with the sound of shattering metal as the greatsword was cleaved in two, the dragonbone blade pushed far enough back that it only made a shallow slice across the vampire's right arm. The effects were immediate. It only took a split-second for the wounded vampire to begin shrieking in pain as a burning hiss filled the air, the cut on his arm sizzling as if on an open fire.

Ketar's eyebrow shot upward. _Now_ there's _an idea._

He lunged toward the reeling vampire with a vicious side thrust kick, knocking him clean off his feet and into the campfire, where he continued shrieking incoherently as his body was burned up and turned to ash moments later. An enraged shout rose up from the forest, snapping Ketar's attention toward the archer as another arrow flew his way, a rapidly formed ward managing to deflect it into the ground behind him. He started sprinting for the tree line, amazed at the lightness of his sword and how _perfectly_ it fit him, like an extension of his body. Two more arrows were sent and dodged before he got close enough to hear the grind of the drawstring—too close to maneuver.

Then he Spoke. " _Tiid-Klo-Ul_!"

And suddenly, time stood still for all but him.

The grind and strain of the drawstring reached a fever pitch as yet another ebony arrow was released, its aim perfect, as he'd expected. The sound of it whistling through the air was almost disorientingly strange compared to what he was used to, but such things always happened when he used this Shout. He'd closed to about twenty feet, and could see the archer well enough through the eyes of his Nightingale mask: a Bosmer vampire, short and lithe and unsurprisingly afraid. The Wood Elf's glowing eyes went visibly wide as he saw Ketar moving faster than any mortal had any business being, and the Dragonborn could almost see him praying for his arrow to land.

Dragonborn's Fury drew back as its master juked to the left at the last possible moment, the blade held out horizontally as he charged toward and past the missile's sender—splitting the arrow lengthwise in the process. When time resumed its normal course, Ketar was four feet behind the archer's position in a crouch, ears filling with the sound of ash hitting the ground, sword held out horizontally in front of him. With smooth, fluid movements, he twirled his sword into an underhanded grip and held it at his right hip as he turned back to the camp. Ketar calmly strode into the clearing, seeing Serana twirl around the master vampire with all the skill and grace of a dancer, then fall into a deep crouch when she swung backward and pierce the vampire's calf with her ebony sword.

Screaming in pain, the lead assassin barely had time to process her injury before she had a new one, and was staring at the severed half of her sword arm currently sitting on the ground. Serana sliced her right hamstring, forcing her onto her knees as Sera pointed her ebony sword one-handedly, a vengeful fire in her sunset eyes. Then, in a single fluid motion, she dispassionately grabbed the collar of the kneeling vampire and thrust the black blade through her chest, a supernatural fire consuming the assassin from within and reducing her to dust in seconds.

Even from this distance, Ketar could see Serana's shoulders rising and falling, and sure enough, when he got closer, he could hear her breathing heavily. Slowly, she turned toward him, sword still held at her side, and let her face sag in relief before she began to look for the sheath. Ketar also found the sheath for Dragonborn's Fury and set it aside with a contented air as he pulled back his hood, the mask receding into the amulet as he looked over the various piles of dust. Spotting the master vampire's Daedric sword, he hummed curiously and scooped it up before sending it to the rift for safekeeping. By the time he turned back to Serana, she was already donning her now-dried armor, finally saving him from having to muscle his eyes away from her _incredibly_ well-defined torso.

She soon joined him next to the ash piles, looking down at them pensively. "Harkon must've sent them to kill you."

Ketar nodded silently.

Serana sighed. "He's not gonna stop until you're dead."

"He did warn me what would happen if I ever came near you again."

She snorted. "Not like you had a choice."

Ketar smiled. "Sure I did." He met her gaze. "And I don't regret it."

Serana smiled back before looking toward the tent and frowning. "I wonder…he's undoubtedly had his vampires looking all over for the three Elder Scrolls. He must think you have the other two."

Ketar shrugged and smirked. "Well, technically…I do."

She stared at him. "Where do you— _oh_."

He nodded, grinning.

"I thought you gave them to Isran."

"I did," he confirmed, "but after Durak was killed…there was something in his eyes that made me nervous." Ketar sighed and pulled the amulet off his chest, then went about preparing to set off. "So, while everyone was distracted during the wake, right before I went to talk to you, I found Isran's hiding place and retrieved both Scrolls. I also asked Dexion about the exact location of the Ancestor Glade he mentioned. Of course, it's a moot point unless we find the third Scroll, but…if neither side has all the pieces, then we at least have Harkon at a stalemate."

"Yeah…" Serana trailed off thoughtfully, frowning in concentration for a moment. "I actually had a thought about that."

His gaze snapped to her. "Oh?"

She nodded slowly. "My mother…Valerica. When she sealed me away, the last time I saw her…she said that she'd go somewhere safe...somewhere that my father would never search. Other than that, she wouldn't tell me anything."

Ketar stood and frowned. "I don't follow."

Serana began to emphatically motion with her hands. "Mother sealed me away with an Elder Scroll because she knew it was needed to complete the prophecy. If I'm right…she'll know where the other one is. And if we're _particularly_ lucky, she'll have it with her."

His eyes immediately lit up. "Well okay then. Any ideas?"

She frowned and thought for a moment. "Not off the top of my head, but…the way she said it...'someplace he'd never search.' It was cryptic, yet she called attention to it."

Ketar's head cocked slightly as he kept packing up their gear. "Could be _anything_ then."

"Yeah…"

He stopped short. "Though…usually when someone says that about someone else they know, the most likely implication is that…they're planning to hide in plain sight."

Serana gave him a look. "Plain sight? Meaning…somewhere actually _close_ to Harkon?"

Ketar nodded.

She thought about it for a few moments before her eyes and mouth went double-wide. "Oh gods—" she grinned from ear to ear and lunged toward him, grabbing the sides of his face, "—you're a _genius_!" A loud smack sounded as she kissed him soundly.

Ketar felt a blush creep up his neck while confusion reigned over everything else. "Okay?"

Serana laughed. "Don't you see? In plain sight—right in Castle Volkihar!"

His black eyebrows hiked upward. "That seems…precarious…and unlikely."

"Yes—unless you spent all of your time around her growing up. There's a courtyard in the castle. I used to help her tend a garden there."

A teasing smirk rose unbidden to his features. "You? Gardening?"

She crossed her arms with a narrow-eyed look. "Don't read into it. All of the ingredients for our potions came from there."

"Ah."

Her features softened in part contemplation, part sadness. "She used to say that my father couldn't stand the place. Too...peaceful." Her gaze sharpened. "It might be a longshot, but right now, it's the only one we have."

"I agree," Ketar replied as he finished loading up Stormbreaker.

"I mean," Serana continued nervously, "I don't think we'll actually trip over her there. But it's worth a look."

He smiled and turned to her. "Sera—we're going."

She gulped and nodded, staring off to the side. "Right…yeah…okay."

"Sera?"

"Hm?"

Ketar couldn't suppress a small chuckle. "Get on the horse."

"Okay."

With his help, Serana climbed into Stormbreaker's saddle and looped her arms around his midsection as he spurred the horse into motion.

"Kay."

"Yes?"

Her grip around him tightened slightly. "Thank you."

Ketar looked back at her curiously. "For what?"

Serana leaned forward to tenderly kiss his lips, making his breath catch for the umpteenth time that night. She smiled when they broke apart, laying her head on his shoulder and looking up at him. "Just…thank you."

Ketar smiled and briefly pressed his forehead to hers before turning forward and focusing on the road. "You're welcome, Sera."

* * *

AN: And there you have it! Finally back on track in the Dawnguard storyline. I needed to have this little interlude (comprised of the past two chapters) for threefold reasons: first, to introduce the Blades and where Ketar is in that story arc; second, to outline his relationship and emphasize his _exasperation_ with both sides of the civil war; and third, Zephyr. Zephyr is freaking awesome, and upon realizing that the quest to get it is part of the Dawnguard expansion, I just knew I had to use this story to make it more awesome. So, advanced Dwarven technology that makes it fully collapsible and fast-firing.

I really hope you enjoyed these interlude chapters. This is where I'd always planned for the meat of original stuff—AKA the romance half—to really shine. I hope I delivered and/or surpassed expectations.

At any rate, let me know what you thought of all this in your comments. I always love reading reviews and messages from my readers. Until next time.

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire - Bow and Arrow: tonal locks/Zephyr's first trial  
The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - Commanding the Fury: Nocturnal's Embrace/campfire battle/first kill  
The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine - I Cannot Let You Leave: Dragonborn's Fury unsheathed/Shadowcloak/time bent


	12. Chasing Echoes

Nearing the western shores of Skyrim, a stray thought occurred to Ketar.

"You know…they're not just gonna let us through the front door." He looked back at Serana's hooded form. "I hope you have a plan for getting in that _doesn't_ require us to slaughter half a coven of vampires."

Serana smirked and gave him a mild chiding look. "Really? Ketar, I lived there for _centuries_ , with two very loud, _very_ argumentative parents; and you think I didn't memorize every nook, cranny, and secret passage?"

He grinned and held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying."

Her eyes rolled as she smiled wider. "There's an unused inlet on the northern side of the island that was used by the previous owners to bring supplies into the castle. An old escape tunnel from the castle exits there. _That's_ our way in."

Ketar arched an eyebrow. " _Previous_ owners?"

Serana frowned and averted her gaze.

He sighed gently and turned forward, almost wincing at the reminder that Serana had not always been so…noble. In that same line of thinking, another question occurred to him. "Were you…always a vampire?"

He could feel her stiffen at his back. "That's…a long story."

Ketar glanced back, voice soft. "I want to hear it."

Serana's eyes flickered to him for a moment before she shrugged and looked off to the side. "I guess... we kind of have to go way back. To the very beginning. Do you know where vampirism came from?"

Ketar frowned. "If it's anything like lycanthropy…I'd guess it originated from a Daedric Lord."

"Exactly," she replied. "The first vampire came from Molag Bal.

Ketar snarled and hissed.

Serana arched an eyebrow. "You've met."

"Let's just say he's not one of the eight I helped. We…didn't part on the best of terms."

"And why's that?"

His jaw clenched. "Because domination is his purview, and he _revels_ in it. He thinks it's _fun_ to screw with people's heads, make them do things they wouldn't otherwise."

"…you?"

Ketar snorted derisively. "Remember what I told Isran when he accused me of being a thrall?"

Serana nodded.

A malevolent smile came to his lips. "Well, that applies to Daedra as well. Bal tried. He _failed_. But…" his face fell, "the person I was with—a priest, an innocent—he was not so lucky. Bal forced me to kill him just to survive. I tuned his voice out after that."

"…I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," he replied, voice agitated. "But if I had a choice of a single Daedra Lord to split from prick to sternum—" his head tilted briefly, "—it would be him."

Serana frowned deeply. "Then you're _definitely_ not gonna like this bit."

Ketar's jaw tightened.

"The first vampire…was not a willing subject. But she was still the first. As you can certainly attest to, Molag Bal is a _powerful_ Daedric Lord, and his will is made reality. For those willing to subjugate themselves, he will still bestow the gift, but they must be powerful in their own right before earning his trust."

Ketar smiled nastily. "And let me guess: ol' Harkon was all too eager to please."

"To be honest…we all were."

He looked back to see most of her face hidden in her hood.

"Look…" Serana bit her lower lip. "I was a different person back then. Young, impressionable, and…my father…he was a storm. Get caught in his radius, and he would pull you in with this _impossible_ charisma. So…when he devised a plan for us to live forever, with power beyond any mortal…of _course_ I said yes." She frowned and looked to the side. "The ceremony was…" she winced, "degrading." A small shudder passed through her body. "Let's not revisit that. But we all took part in it." She looked up at him when she saw pity in his eyes. "Please, don't misunderstand.

"I'm not ashamed of what I am, no matter what choices I had to make to get there." She jabbed a thumb into her chest. "I _earned_ this gift, even if it came out of misery. I chose to become something more than human, and I'm alive today _because_ of that choice."

Ketar's upper lip twitched. "Which is probably the only good thing he's ever done for this world. Pity the rest of your family never turned out like you."

Serana sighed. "Yeah. Thing is, _they_ were always the ambitious ones, not me. Obsessed with gaining more and more power even _before_ they became vampires. Bal's gift just…intensified what was already there by giving it an eternity to grow. And the result…well, you've met my father." She frowned. "He was never particularly stable to begin with, and eventually…he drove my mother crazy with him. And it all ended with me being locked underground for who knows how long. So…maybe you're right, and it _had_ been a bad thing, on the whole. But I don't regret my part in it."

Ketar drew Stormbreaker to a halt and looked back at Serana. "Neither do I."

She stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"As humiliating as it must've been, if you hadn't taken that deal, Harkon might already have had what he wants, because without you…I would've never stumbled across that prophecy, or his clan. And there would be no one left to oppose him."

She nodded. "That's a fair point."

His blue eyes and voice softened as he reached back and took her hand, lacing his gloved fingers with her bare ones. "And _we_ never would've met…which would be my greatest regret of all."

Serana stared at him, lips parted slightly, and leaned forward to embrace him from behind, her free arm going around his midsection as her face pressed into his neck. Ketar pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, then released her hand and began to dismount. Serana frowned in confusion.

Ketar waved at the distant shoreline. "Since Harkon knows we know where he lives, he might have patrols on this side of the bay. We'll be harder to spot on foot."

"And Stormbreaker?"

Ketar smiled confidently. "He knows my call."

Serana arched an eyebrow and dismounted. "Whatever that means."

He chuckled. "You'll see when we get out of there. Now, where's this secret entrance of yours?"

…

"Just around this bend." Serana stopped rowing for a moment to stare up at the massive stone towers of Volkihar. "Castle looks so _big_ from down here. I mean…it _is_ big, but, well, even bigger."

Ketar frowned under his Guildmaster hood as they drifted to shore. "If this place weren't so _creepy_ , I'd be impressed. I swear, it's like every time we come to this island, it's either overcast or pouring."

Serana snorted. "Pretty sure that's just your imagination."

"If you say so…"

She helped him drag their small boat ashore, then stopped short and pulled him down behind a large boulder. Frowning, Ketar followed her lead when she slowly came up to peek over the edge.

"Looks like this unused inlet of yours isn't quite so unused," Ketar remarked upon seeing several skeletons patrolling a stone platform above them.

"Harkon's as paranoid as Isran," Serana replied. "Maybe more so. And he knows this place almost as well as I do, so he guards every inch of it, but he'll never expect anyone to have the audacity to actually try breaking in."

Ketar snorted and tilted his head, reaching for the back of his belt. "Lucky us."

Zephyr unfolded to full size with a series of quiet metal clanks, Serana drawing her dagger in one hand and preparing a kinetic bolt in the other. She gave him a sideways glance and a frown.

"Do you even have _arrows_ for that thing?"

Ketar glanced at her before looking up to where a quiver should have been. "Ah. Right." He cleared his throat and laid down the bow long enough for him to open his rift and retrieve a full quiver of ebony arrows. At her questioning glance, he said, "How do you think my Nightingale armor restocks its supply?"

She shrugged. "It's just that last I checked, those high-quality of arrows tend to be expensive."

"You _do_ realize you're talking to the guy who owns a house in every Hold, right?"

"Honestly?" Serana chuckled. "I forget that. Often."

Ketar smiled. "Good. Means the wealth doesn't show. Now…shall we?"

…

Ketar and Serana stood up, one drawing back and firing his bow rapidly while the other charged forward and shot off a kinetic bolt that shattered the rib cage of a skeleton unfortunate enough to be the closest. Ketar's first arrow perforated the neck vertebra of one skeleton, his second nailing another in the skull. Both their glowing eyes dimmed as they crumpled to the ground in pieces, Serana letting out a shout as she dropped to her shins and slid under a greatsword slash from another skeleton. Her dagger slid through the gap between its thigh bone and kneecap, cutting its leg off halfway and dropping it prone.

She was turning to finish it off when she sensed another presence behind her, and was about to whirl with a spinning strike when—

" _Fus-Ro-Dah_!"

—Ketar's Voice shattered it to pieces.

A smirk made its way to her lips as she brought the point of her dagger down into the skeleton's skull, the unholy energy keeping it animated quickly dissipating. A small pat at her shoulder drew her back to her feet.

"Where to next?" Ketar asked.

Serana took a look around, spotting an arched wooden door right where she'd expected it to be. She pointed it out to him as she sheathed her dagger. "That way."

Ketar blinked twice, then turned to her with a disbelieving stare. "Seriously? Just an…innocuous door guarded by five skeletons? That's it?"

She shot him a look. "There'll be more inside."

"Oh. Good. For a second there, I thought this was gonna be too easy."

Serana threw him a grin as she began to nudge the door open. "Don't worry, dear. You'll have plenty more to keep you from getting bored."

He snorted. "It's not _about_ getting bored. It's about this being _too easy_ —and by extension suspect."

"Ah. I see. You're worried it's a trap."

"We'll see once I get a closer look at the defenses."

Serana nodded as they proceeded into the castle's undercroft. "Well, if it's of any comfort, I did say Harkon would never expect anyone to be this bold."

"I've followed that thinking before. Didn't exactly work out as planned."

"In my experience, most plans don't."

Ketar let out a small groan. "You don't have to tell _me_."

Serana stopped short at a faint sound, holding up a hand to bring him to a halt at the top of a short flight of stairs. "I hear something."

" _Laas-Yah-Nir_ ," he whispered behind her. He nudged her arm and pointed to a door down below. "Something low and quadrupedal beyond that door. Death hound, I'd wager."

She nodded. "Probably. I should probably go first. They'll pick up your scent faster."

"Agreed. What in Oblivion _are_ those things, anyway? Daedra? Or other hybrids, like vampires?"

Serana proceeded down the stairs, Ketar staying a healthy distance back as she drew her dagger. "To be honest? I'm not entirely sure. Though your second theory certainly has merit."

"Sera," Ketar whispered from the stairs, knowing she'd hear him. "There's more than one."

"Then you take the one I miss when I open the door."

His reply of, "Got it," was quickly followed by the metallic grind of his metal bow being drawn back.

"Ready? Now."

Serana pulled on the ring that comprised the door's handle with her empty hand and lunged forward with her right, the Elven dagger digging into the undead creature's neck and severing its spinal cord. A second one tried to chomp at her face, but found its jaw limp and inoperable thanks to an ebony arrow impaling it on either side. A second arrow buried itself in the monster's brain, and it fell to the ground a moment later as Ketar ran to join Serana.

"The old water cistern," she remarked, pointing to their surroundings. "On some days, this smell would just...be glad you weren't here then."

With a grunt of effort, Ketar managed to wrench the arrows free and return them to his bow, both nocked. Apparently, his Voice allowed him to see something she didn't. Serana spotted them a moment later, quickly realizing that there were a _lot_ more than two death hounds. She frowned and twirled her dagger, readying a lightning spell in her left hand.

 _The sewer…residual smells must be interfering with my nose._

The first hound got an arrow between the eyes, the second a lightning bolt that brought it tumbling to the floor next to Ketar. His Blade of Woe silenced it for good, Serana delivering a sharp kick to the mouth of another when it tried to bite her.

"You should not have come here!"

The new voice, female, hissing, and violent; came from deeper in the cistern, a small set of stairs that led into another room. Serana quickly bent down to finish off the wounded hound, then dashed forward, almost getting her face singed by a lightning bolt whose path strayed far too close to her head. Snarling, her eyes darted about until they locked onto the caster, a pale, green-skinned female vampire with pointed ears and ratty clothing. A mix of pity and revulsion filled her as she charged toward the fiend, dagger at the ready even as Ketar's arrows impaled her shoulders and nailed her to the wall. Serana's Elven dagger pierced her heart a moment later, and the blade slipped free as she turned to dust.

She stared at the ash pile for a few moments before shaking off her blade and turning to Ketar. "That wasn't one of Harkon's. She was a—"

"Feral, I know." Ketar frowned and bent over the dust pile briefly before standing up and moving up the stairs. "I recognized the look in her eyes."

Serana followed and stared at his back for a moment before realizing what he meant and feeling a surge of…well, pity wasn't exactly the right word. She wasn't quite sure what it was, or if it really mattered. "Right. Sorry."

Ketar shrugged and looked the room over, noticing that they were on a balcony overlooking another passage—and a lever in the middle of the railing. He pulled it, deploying a drawbridge that extended the passage below, then vaulting over the rail with Serana right behind. The wooden drawbridge led to a diverging T intersection with a raised drawbridge on the other end and a stone cross-section leading to opposing passages. Sera reached out and took his arm, stopping him and pointing left.

"Go left here," said Serana.

He nodded in reply, letting her take the lead as they ducked around several hanging chains lined with barbed caltrops.

"This is one of those weird double-barred security measures that my father put in when he got more paranoid," she explained. "If we follow this path around, we can find the other switch."

Ketar just nodded again, brandishing another ebony arrow and readying it for the next death hound to come around the corner. Serana frowned when, several more beasts later, he hadn't said a word.

"You're awfully quiet."

He blinked and glanced over at her. "Nothing to say. I'm not really the type to engage in idle conversation."

Serana shrugged. "Not even to pass the time?"

Ketar smirked and drew back another arrow. "That's what the death hounds are for."

 _Twang!_

Another undead canine dropped to the floor, dead, as they stepped over its body and proceeded further into the undercroft. It was when they started seeing massive amounts of cobwebs that she noticed a change in him. Specifically, there was a significant stutter and tension to his steps, and an obvious change to his breathing, as if he were forcing his lungs to expand and retract evenly.

"You okay?" she asked.

Ketar blinked and looked at her, lips pressed into a thin line under his hood. "Fine. Just—"

She caught his eyes widen in alarm and turned around just in time to duck under a glob of poisonous liquid flying her way. An ebony arrow was returned to the sender, followed by a second and third, each burying their way into the grotesque maw of a giant frostbite spider. More than a bit disgusted, Serana didn't even bother getting close, but sheathed her dagger and began bombarding the creature with ice spikes, slowing it down and causing significant damage to its spindly legs. One particularly large spike lodged itself between two of its multiple eyes, and Ketar surprised her by rushing forward and Shouting.

" _Fus_!"

The single Word of Power was directed straight at the back of the spike, and effectively rammed it in like a hammer and stake, caving in the spider's brain and rendering it quite dead. Looking back at him, Serana was surprised to find his shoulders heaving a bit and his face a bit paler than usual.

He caught her gaze and shuddered a bit. "Not a huge fan of spiders."

Serana arched an amused eyebrow even as she slipped her way past the large corpse and toward a lever on the far side of the web-littered room. "Big bad Dragonborn, who wrestles vampires and spits fire—afraid of a few oversized creepy-crawlies?"

"Hey, everyone has that one irrational fear, okay? Spiders are mine. So what? That's not even _uncommon_."

She chuckled as she pulled the switch. "That's what makes it so funny."

"Whatever," he grumbled, not even attempting to retrieve his arrows from the spider.

A positively wicked thought stirred in her head even as they made their way back to the intersection, waiting until he was scanning the lowered drawbridge for threats before she snuck up behind him. And _eeeever_ -so-gently flicked her fingers over his shoulder. The effects were immediate.

Ketar stiffened, his breathing going hard and body whirling around in alarm. His eyes went wide and flashed with a mixture of volatile emotions when he saw Serana barely holding back her laughter.

"Do—not—do—that—again."

Serana's mirth immediately vanished at the very-real anger in his tone. "Wha—"

"How would you like it if I decided to fake falling off a cliff again, huh?"

She stared and gaped. "I-I'm sorry…I didn't realize it was that bad for you."

His empty hand fisted and relaxed haphazardly. "It's not—ugh…" He sighed and turned away, jaw clenching. "Just forget it."

Gulping hard, Serana followed behind him glumly, chiming in every now and then to keep them on track until they reached the door to the courtyard. What greeted them on the other side was a sight that absolutely broke her heart.

"Oh…no…" Serana stopped and stared in the doorway of the entrance. "What happened to this place?"

Ketar followed behind her as she slowly strode around the wide, open room, her keen eyes seeing only the dreary gray of death where there had once been plentiful color and vegetation.

"This is…everything's been torn down. This whole place looks dead."

He stayed silent, collapsing and holstering his bow.

Serana stopped at the edge of a former flowerbed, arms hugging herself. "It's like we're the first to set foot here in _centuries_."

Ketar frowned. "Maybe we were wrong about Valerica."

Serana's lips pursed. "Maybe…but I'm not convinced yet." She strode around the courtyard, eyes going everywhere. "This used to lead into the castle's great hall. It looks like my father had it sealed up." Her eyes misted over wistfully. "I used to walk through here after evening meals. It was beautiful, once." She came to a stop in front of a fenced-in area overgrown with briars, Ketar standing next to her and looking at her profile. "This was my mother's garden," she said, waving at the weed-strewn mess. "It…" she trailed off as she met his eyes, "do you know how _beautiful_ something can be when it's tended by a master for hundreds of years?" She turned back to the center of the room. "She would have _hated_ to see it like this."

Then, suddenly, something caught her eye. Serana's head cocked to one side as she stepped closer to the middle. "Wait..." Her eyes narrowed as she pointed toward a large, circular fixture in the center floor. "Something's wrong with the moondial here. Yeah." Her finger's path traced the edge of the dial. "Some of the crests are missing and the dial is askew. I didn't even know the crests could be removed." She looked up at him. "Maybe my mother's trying to tell us something?"

His eyes widened a bit. "Like the braziers in Dimhollow Crypt."

Serana's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

Ketar's lips began moving without words as he too began tracing the dial from afar with his finger. His lips pressed together. "In order to free you from your chamber, I had to array a set of magical braziers in a certain pattern. They activated a mechanism that turned the floor into a set of descending stairs."

"And you think that's what's happening here?"

An excited smile twitched at his lips. "If I were a betting man, I'd say so."

"Then let's find the crests and figure this out. Knowing my father, he wouldn't have wanted anything to do with this room, so if they're missing, it's probably by Mother's design."

Ketar nodded and began traipsing across the room as Serana did the same, searching every nook and cranny.

"Found one!" he shouted.

"Good. Bring it and any others you find to the center."

And so they did for the next couple of minutes, until three crests in all were gathered and arrayed next to each other.

"So you see," said Serana, "the crests show the various phases of our moons, Masser and Secunda."

"Right. So all _we_ should have to do is array them in the order of their appearance over the course of a month. Easy."

"You know," Serana grinned, "confidence is a pretty good look on you."

Ketar grinned back as he began laying the crests in their respective places. "Why thank you, I try."

"Hmm…" she sidled up next to him as he laid the last crest in place, "though not, I think, quite as good as 'flustered.'"

He nodded slowly and bit his lower lip. "If you say so."

Suddenly, the dial in the center of the array started moving clockwise, pointing toward the far side of the room, and when it reached the end of its path, something clicked. Then, just like Ketar had said, the floor in the center of the array began to shift into a spiral staircase leading down.

Serana smirked. "Very clever, Mother. _Very_ clever."

Ketar's right hand and the sapphire of the ring that sat there flared with magicka for a moment before a small white light began hovering around him. "Any idea where this leads?"

She chewed her lower lip as they began to descend. "Well, I've never been down in these _particular_ tunnels before. But if I had to guess, I'd say they run right under the courtyard and into the tower ruins."

Ketar frowned curiously. "You mean the tower's blocked off otherwise?"

Serana nodded. "Deemed too structurally unstable. The result of a magical explosion, I was told…or perhaps that was simply an excuse my mother fed Harkon to keep _this_ a secret. Either way, we're getting closer. I can _feel_ it."

"Want to take the lead?"

She shrugged and drew her dagger. "Well, we're in unfamiliar territory for _both_ of us now, so…your call."

"I'll go first, then," he said, drawing Dragonborn's Fury.

The Candlelight orb following Ketar flew to the sapphire in the sword's pommel as soon as he drew it, the gem itself beginning to glow with magical energy as he held it aloft. Serana frowned and cocked her head in curiosity as her eyes darted from the pommel to his ring.

"I'm curious," she said as he pushed open a door at the end of the stairs.

He glanced back. "Yes?"

"That sapphire in your ring—does it serve the same function as the one in the Fury?"

Ketar grinned. "Smart woman. This ring is how I perfected my skills with Alteration enchanting. I'd like to say I'm still making upgrades, but…truth is, there's a certain point where mortal man's magical power tends to plateau. And—with this at least—I'm pretty sure I hit it."

"So does that thing burn anyone without dragon blood too?"

He barked a small laugh. "No. It was made by the same smith who helped me forge the Fury, but not with dragonfire. The enchanted gem was _my_ contribution."

"Ah."

"But uh…I doubt many others would be able to use it either way."

"Why's that?"

Ketar smirked as they reached what looked like a dead end. "Let's just say—"

He passed his sword to his offhand and reached out to pull a nearby chain down by the ring at its end. The result was the far wall retracting upward and revealing a bloody table and some cooking implements.

"—I have a very distinctive hand size."

Serana's raven eyebrows hiked upward as she followed him through the breach. "There are… _so_ many directions I could go with that statement."

"Yeah, uh, I'll thank you for _not_." Ketar gave her a small glare.

To which she responded with a demure pout and bat of her eyelashes.

His deep blue eyes rolled in exasperation and amusement as they proceeded further into the tunnels. A staircase leading upward ended with a door that was carefully opened, permitting them into a large, high-vaulted room with various pillars strewn about and a long dining table in its center.

With a half-dozen slumped-over skeletons seated around its circumference.

"Be careful," Serana said quietly as she shifted her dagger to an underhand position. "I've never even _seen_ this part of the castle before. I don't know what might be—"

When they drew close to the table, every single candle adorning the table—and a fireplace on the other side of the room—lit up. And every single skeleton drew a weapon.

Ketar's left hand and the gem in his sword flared with magic as he flipped the weapon to an underhanded grip and brought his empty hand close to the pommel. A plasma bolt charged in the palm of his left hand—faster than usual, as she noted—and was released a moment later, nailing the first undead in the jaw and burning through the dry bones like paper. A kinetic bolt lanced from Serana's empty hand and shattered another's neck vertebrae while Ketar underhandedly deflected strikes from two skeletons at once. On a downward block, he swung his sword upward and left, slicing straight through one skeleton's neck and twisting around an overhead strike to thrust the Fury through the skull of the second.

The burning hiss of the Fury's runed enchantment and the cracking of brittle bones preceded an outright explosion of the skeleton's perforated skull, allowing Ketar to twirl between Serana and an arrow, which he deflected. Serana, meanwhile, was channeling a lightning spell in both her hands, and released it a few moments later, the electrical arcs chaining from one collection of bones to the next and causing the remaining undead to shatter into a thousand pieces. Wordlessly, they exchanged a look, then proceeded toward a staircase on the far side of the room, sprinting up and scanning the halls for any more surprises.

A short second staircase in a second-floor hallway led up to a large room with several stone pillars and a familiarly-patterned statue at the far end.

"Sera…" Ketar started warningly.

His suspicions were proven correct when the grotesque, winged statue shattered its outer skin and roared, baring its fangs and claws and charging toward them. Serana wasted no time, brandishing her dagger and lunging forward to stick it into the gargoyle's neck while Ketar pounced on its other side. It was almost laughable how quickly and easily they took it apart. Within seconds, between Serana's lightning-fast dagger strikes and Ketar's seriously overpowered new weapon, it was in pieces and on the floor in seconds. Seeing no other way forward, a door to the right of the gargoyle's corpse was opened, revealing another half-crumbled room with various unlit torches scattered about.

They also magically lit up when the pair got deeper into the room, and two more skeletons—armored this time—charged toward them from yet another set of stairs.

Ketar sighed hard. "Okay, this is getting dull. How many of these things _are_ there?"

Serana shrugged. "Don't look at _me_. This was my _mother's_ idea of security. A pretty effective one, too."

"Or it would be," he commented as he cut down another undead, "if they were going up against anyone else."

"Though I guess that was sort of the point," she remarked, climbing up another staircase. "Only the worthy will be able to reach the end of the trail."

Ketar grumbled. "When we're done, I am going to have a _serious_ conversation with your mother about all this."

Serana frowned deeply. "You and me both."

…

To say that climbing the tower of Volkihar Castle was arduous would not have been an overstatement. To say it was extremely tedious would _also_ not have been an overstatement. Long story short, a dozen traps and hidden switches, ten gargoyles and oh, about a hundred skeletons later, they finally reached the topmost room of the tower, what looked like a large dining room with several tables, bookcases, and coffins in various parts of the room. Oh, and a couple more currently-immobile gargoyles probably mixed in with actual statues. Yes, Serana's super-paranoid mother mixed annoyingly deadly magical creatures in with actual statues patterned after them.

And his Voice couldn't detect the difference until they actually started moving—which was _annoying_. At any rate, to say Ketar was _extremely irritated_ with this whole endeavor by the time they reached this room would not have been an overstatement either. Still, he brandished Dragonborn's Fury and made to cut down the first one in his path, stopping mid-strike when the one next to it shattered instead and twirling in the opposite direction to dig the edge of his blade deep into the creature's left shoulder. He winced.

 _Damn—I was aiming for its neck. I must_ really _be getting tired if I'm missing like this._

He had no more time to think on it, as he withdrew from a vicious claw strike that almost cut a deep gash in his leather chestpiece and prompted him to lunge forward with a snap-kick to the creature's hip. The hard leather boot cracked against its stony skin, forcing it to recoil in pain and open itself up to his blade being thrust through its skull. It turned to stone a moment later, its body crumbling apart and freeing his sword. He only had a split-second of warning in his peripheral vision before he lunged to his right, feeling pain rip through his side as he felt stony claws rend his armor and the flesh underneath.

A savage snarl that sounded like Serana preceded a sharp shriek of pain from the attacking gargoyle, Ketar turning toward them just in time to see Sera sink her dagger into its neck up to the hilt. She'd apparently pounced onto its shoulders and was viciously plunging her dagger into its critical points over and over again. When it tried to throw her off, Ketar could only gape in pure awe as she backflipped to land behind it, then grabbed one of its wings by the base and pulled with her hips while turning. She effectively tore its wing clean off while simultaneously throwing it into a wall and shattering its body into a thousand pieces.

As Ketar watched her heavily breathing body, his jaw halfway to the floor, she slowly turned toward him, the dim light casting half her face in shadow, her eyes burning through the darkness. Her clenched jaw loosened and head cocked in confusion at the look on his face.

"What?"

Ketar's mind completely blanked out and mouth started moving of its own accord. "That was so hot…"

Serana's shoulders sagged as she rolled her eyes with a sigh and a sassy smirk. "Glad you enjoyed the show." Then her eyes spotted his gashed side and went wide in alarm. "Kay!"

He jumped at the sudden rise of volume in her voice, looking around wildly. "What- _what_?!"

"What do you mean 'what'?!" Serana stalked toward him and grabbed his left arm, lifting it up and obnoxiously pointing at his injury.

Ketar blinked. "Oh."

He let out a small, high-pitched laugh as his right hand glowed with magic and rapidly sealed the wound shut. Serana stared at him with a mildly confused look as he gently pulled away and started searching the room for another door. He registered that she wasn't following him a moment before she spoke.

"…did you just giggle?"

"Nope," he flatly denied, eyes searching.

"'Cause I could've sworn—"

"Nope."

"…Ketar, I have super hearing."

"…"

"Ketar—"

"Where would your mother hide a secret door in this room?"

Serana sighed softly and came up beside him, her eyes searching alongside his as a concentrated frown came to her features. "Not sure. There's no moondial in here, so your guess is as good as mine."

Ketar hummed in thought, then started toward one of the bookcases, which was placed between two upright, open coffins. He noticed something glowing faintly on its lower shelf almost immediately, and reached down to pick up a set of folded raiment. When he unfolded it, it revealed an armored tunic, rolled-up bottoms, and a cloak fastened with a familiar-looking brooch…

"Serana…this looks kind of like your armor."

She looked over at him. "Because it's based on the same design, just for a male. Mother must've kept a spare in here for some reason."

"Hm." He shifted it to look from several angles. "Anything special I should know?"

"Well, you've seen mine. It's flexible, lightweight, and tough. Oh, and the cloak carries a partial levitation enchantment."

Ketar's wide eyes immediately snapped to her. " _That's_ useful."

She smirked. "It's part of why I often seem so weightless in combat and traversal."

He grinned and turned back to the armor in his hands. " _That's_ going in the rift."

Serana chuckled. "Of course it is." She stopped short and cocked her head when her eyes stopped on an empty, unlit fireplace at the far side of the room. "Huh."

Ketar turned to her as he closed the rift. "What?"

She glanced back at him, then nodded at the fireplace. "What do you think? Classic secret door?"

He frowned and cocked his head. "Possibly. The question is, where would the switch be?"

They both stared at the fireplace for a while before Ketar noticed something. On either side of the fireplace, there were candelabras. Every single torch, sconce, and candle in the room was lit.

Except for the one on the left.

Smirking and mentally crossing his fingers, Ketar reached out and pulled on the left candelabra, turning it clockwise and hearing something click before the stone back of the fireplace receded into the ceiling.

"Well, well," Serana drawled, "leave it to my mother. Always smarter than I gave her credit for."

Ketar snapped his gaze to her with a small frown. "Why _her_?"

Sera turned to him with a small pout, curling her fingers around his arm. "Oh, of _course_ you're amazing."

His eyes rolled as he pushed forward into the room beyond, his left hand glowing with a magical light that flew to the hilt of his sheathed sword and illuminated a curling hallway that led to another set of stairs. A wooden door at the end stared back at them ominously. They exchanged a look before pushing through.

On the other side was a massive, high-vaulted room, the value of which Ketar couldn't even _begin_ to guess at. In the center of the room was an array of concentric, multiple-sized circles of stones surrounded by candlesticks, most of which were unlit. On the far side of the array was a staircase leading up to a railed second floor, the center of which lacked railing between the balcony and the array. All around the room were bookshelves laden with books, soul gems, and various alchemical materials and equipment. All in all, an impressive setup.

"Look at this place," Serana breathed. "This has to be it!" She started pacing toward the center of the room. "I knew she was deep into necromancy." She turned to him. "I mean, she taught me everything I know. But…" her eyes scanned across the room with no small amount of awe, "I had _no_ idea she had a setup like this."

Ketar strode up alongside her and pulled back his hood, sharing her sentiments, though to less of a degree.

"Look at all this. She must have spent _years_ collecting these components." Serana frowned down at the array on the floor. "And what's this thing?"

He nodded at it. "I was about to ask _you_ that. It was the first thing I noticed upon entering."

"Hm…I'm not sure about this circle, but it's obviously... _something_." Serana met his eyes. "Let's take a look around. There has to be something here that tells us where she's gone."

Ketar nodded and moved to an opposite side of the room from Serana. "What exactly are we looking for?"

"My mother was meticulous about her research. If we can find her notes, there might be some hints in there."

"Got it." He frowned and scanned the mostly-dark room. "Do you think your mother kept gargoyles in here?"

"Not that I ever saw. My mother had a bit of a thing for magical constructs." She stopped short and looked over at him. "Not...not what you're thinking. She just found them fascinating."

Ketar arched a black eyebrow. "What was I thinking?"

Serana's lips pursed and head shook. "Nothing. Never mind." She went back to searching without another word.

Frowning in confusion, he shrugged and resumed his own search, moving up the stairs to the second floor and spotting a large table filled with alchemy tools. His eyes scanned over the equipment and shelves, flitting from one book to the next as he made his way across the balcony, stopping on a book about ice wraiths and flipping it open briefly.

"Found it!"

His head snapped toward the source of Serana's voice as he laid the book back down and leapt from the balcony to join her. "Anything on where she might've gone?"

"Maybe…" Serana's eyes widened. "Oh gods…of _course_!"

"What?"

She looked up at him. "The Soul Cairn."

His eyebrows shot upward. "The what now?"

Serana frowned. "Right. You're not a necromancer."

"Not in the slightest."

"Okay, well…Mother had a theory about soul gems. That the souls inside of them don't just vanish when they're used...they end up in the Soul Cairn."

"Okay…why would she care?"

"According to her research, the Soul Cairn is home to very powerful beings. Necromancers send them souls, and receive powers of their own in return. My mother spent a _lot_ of time trying to contact them directly, to travel to the Soul Cairn itself."

"And you think she got in?"

Serana nodded. "If I'm right, that's where we'll find her." She nodded at the array in the center of the floor. "That circle is definitely some kind of portal. If I'm reading this right, there's a formula here that should give us safe passage into the Soul Cairn."

"Formula…" He groaned. "That usually requires ingredients, and I am _not_ in the mood to run _all_ the way back down those stairs to get them."

Serana looked up at him. "Relax, Kay. Mother would've kept this place well-stocked with whatever ingredients she needed. Meticulous, remember? We just need to find them."

Ketar shrugged. "All right then. What am I looking for?"

She frowned and resumed reading. "A handful of soul gem shards, some finely-ground bone meal, a good bit of purified void salts..." Her eyes went wide. "Oh...damn it..."

"What?"

Serana's lips pursed as she looked back to him. "We're also going to need a sample of her blood. Which...if we could get that, we wouldn't even be trying to do this in the first place."

Ketar frowned and stared off to the side, mind racing until— "Wait—don't you _share_ her blood? Both mortal and vampiric?"

Her left eyebrow arched. "Okay, good point." Her lips made a crooked frown. "I hope that's good enough. Mistakes with these kinds of portals can be..." she shuddered, "gruesome." She was silent for a few moments before closing the leather-bound journal. "Anyway, enough of that. Let's get started."

…

Serana had been right. Valerica was an _incredibly_ meticulous and intelligent necromancer. A search of maybe two minutes revealed all the necessary materials, which were then dropped and ground into a metal vessel at the rail-less spot in the center of the balcony. Serana frowned at the contents for a few seconds, mouthing a count of the materials before turning to Ketar.

"Okay…that should do it. The rest is up to me." She bit her lower lip a bit. "Are you ready to go? I'm not entirely sure what this thing is going to do when I add my blood."

Ketar frowned and looked toward the array. "Can I ask you something first?"

She blinked. "Okay?"

He turned back to her. "What will you do if we find Valerica?"

Serana's face fell a bit as she looked away in thought. "You know…I've been asking myself the same thing since we came back to the castle. She was so _sure_ of what we did to my father, I couldn't help but go along with her." She looked down. "I never thought of the cost."

Ketar's eyes pored over her conflicted features for a while. "And now? Now that you've had time, what do you think?"

She looked back up at him. "I…I don't know. I guess even a vampire mother is still a mother. She worried about me. About _all_ of us. But…she wanted to get me as far away from my father as possible before he _really_ went over the edge." Her head cocked as she looked to the side. "At the same time, though, she was practically smirking as we left home. Almost like she was proud of herself. Like she didn't just want to stop my father...she wanted to stick it to him, too. On the one hand, she might just have wanted to protect me. But on the other, it almost looks like she was trying to use me against Harkon…again." Serana sighed hard. "I don't know _what_ to think."

Ketar reached out and gently gripped her shoulders, prompting her to look up at him. "Well…with that thought, there's something I want to tell you. Something important. Something I want to _promise_ you."

She blinked owlishly. "Okay?"

He stared intensely into her eyes. "I will never, _ever_ tell you what to think. Your thoughts, your decisions, from this point forward, are your own, no matter what." He smirked wryly. "And barring some catastrophe, I will stand behind you for every one of them."

Serana blinked again. "That's…one hell of a promise to make."

Ketar shrugged. "Yeah, well…whatever else we are, you're my friend first. And I stand by my friends."

Her lips pursed and—as he barely noticed—trembled a bit before she nodded and pushed forward into his waiting embrace. Ketar gently pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and held her close, his gloved hand lazily stroking through her silky smooth hair. His eyelids slid shut as they held each other, a wave of drowsiness slowly sneaking up on him until—

"Ketar?"

He grunted sleepily.

"Um…the portal?"

His eyes snapped open. "Right."

He cleared his throat and released her, scratching the back of his head as she gave him an amused glance, then turned to the vessel. She stopped short and looked back at him with a small, warm smile.

"Thank you. And…not just for the promise." Serana chewed her lower lip. "I...I guess I never really expected anyone to care how I felt about her."

Ketar blinked and stared at her blankly.

"So…" she looked down, then glanced up at him shyly, "thanks."

He smiled and nodded silently.

Serana turned back to the vessel and took a deep breath, drawing her dagger. "Okay…here goes." With a small wince of pain, she carved a deep gash into her left palm and allowed the blood to drip into the vessel.

The effect was immediate.

The circular array in the floor below began glowing with the same otherworldly violet energy that Ketar had seen in Dimhollow Crypt, every single candle lighting up as the stones began moving.

Serana gaped at the sight. "By the blood of my ancestors…"

The stones turned and rotated in opposite directions, the individual parts moving apart and levitating to form a set of stairs that extended to the platform the pair was standing on.

"…she actually did it...created a portal to the Soul Cairn." Serana huffed an awed breath. "Incredible."

Ketar grinned crookedly. "Bit more impressive than my rift, isn't it?"

Serana arched an eyebrow and smirked. "Well, you don't need to bleed to open it, so the verdict's still out."

He grinned wider as they proceeded toward the steps, making their way halfway down before—

Ketar's breathing started getting heavy, his entire body sagging and draining of strength, then seizing up with a sudden shock of pure agony as he cried out and recoiled from the portal, falling onto the steps back-first.

"Ketar!"

Serana rushed back up toward him, grabbing him by the shoulders and hauling him away from the portal back onto the balcony.

"Kay…Kay?"

He blinked rapidly, staring at the portal, then looked up at her.

"Are you all right?" She frowned. "That looked painful."

Ketar grunted and let her help him to his feet. "It was. The hell _was_ that?"

Serana winced. "Now that I think about it..." she groaned in self-frustration, "I should have expected that." She looked back to see his confused expression. "Sorry. It's hard to describe. The Soul Cairn is...well, hungry, for lack of a better word. It's trying to take your life essence as payment."

Ketar's eyes went double-wide. " _Oh_. Well…that's…problematic."

"Yeah…" Serana's lips pursed tightly as she looked up at him. "There might be a way to get you through…but I _know_ you're not going to take it."

He blinked and frowned. "Try me."

"Vampires aren't counted among the living. I could probably go through there without a problem."

Ketar's blood went cold. "You're saying…I would need to—"

"Yeah…I'd have to turn you."

He gulped and looked off to the side. "And there's no other way?"

"There might be, but it's risky."

His eyes returned to her. "Okay?"

"We could try to 'pay the toll' another way. It wants a soul, so we give it a soul. Yours."

He blinked. "I don't follow. Wouldn't that kill me?"

"Ordinarily, yes, but my mother taught me a trick or two. I could partially soul trap you, and offer that gem to the Ideal Masters."

"The who now?"

Serana sighed. "They're my mother's name for the beings that inhabit the Soul Cairn. The offering _might_ be enough to satisfy them. It would make you a bit weaker when we travel through the Soul Cairn, but we might be able to fix that once we're inside. Maybe."

Ketar paced off to the side and leaned against the nearby railing. He looked over his shoulder at her. "And those are my only options?"

She gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry. I wish I knew a better way, something that would be easier for you. Just know that..." she came up beside him and laced her fingers with his, "whatever path you choose, I won't think any less of you. Sometimes things just have to be done." She looked down. "I know that better than anybody."

He gave her a brief, grateful smile, then resumed staring off into the distance. He couldn't tell how much time had passed before he suddenly turned to her with an intense blue gaze. "Soul trap me. I think you know I won't feel right as a vampire."

Serana bit her lip. "Are you sure? I'm willing to do it, but you need to think it through. You'll remain mortal, but you'll find yourself weakened within the Soul Cairn."

Ketar grinned. "That's what I have _you_ for."

She rolled her eyes and chuckled before taking his hands and smiling up at him warmly. "I guess I'd be willing to be the strong one—" she leaned closer, breathing over his lips, "—just this once."

Ketar's eyes warmed. "You're _always_ strong to me, Sera."

Laughter lit up her eyes as she leaned back. "And _you_ always say the sweetest things."

He grinned wolfishly. "Wouldn't be doing this right if I didn't." His smile began to fade as she prepared the spell. "Sera…"

She looked up at his uncertain features.

"I hope you realize this doesn't say anything about what I think of—"

Serana stopped him with a hand on his arm. "We've been over this. I told you: no matter what path you choose, I'll never think any less of you." She chuckled. "Truth be told, I'm not sure I could have gone through with turning you even if you'd chosen that. Not quite ready for _that_ step."

Ketar arched a confused eyebrow. "Eh?"

She blinked and stared off to the side with wide eyes. "Did I say that last bit out loud?"

"What step?"

Her face began to fill with color as she looked up at him, then abruptly turned away. "Um…it's nothing."

Curious, he leaned in and loomed over her shoulder as she tried to resume her spell. "Sera."

She kept going.

" _Sera_ …"

Serana sighed. "Yes?"

"What step?"

He saw her visibly gulp as she turned back to him, face almost as red as his when he got flustered. "Um…it's just that…among vampires, uh…" Serana shifted in place and toyed with her hands, looking anywhere but at him. "Sharing blood is…different than taking it. More…" her glowing sunset eyes glanced up at him shyly before turning elsewhere, " _intimate_." Her next words came out in a hurried run-on. "So I just wouldn't want to feel like I'm doing too much or forcing you into it or…" another shy glance, "anything like that."

Ketar stared down at her, feeling a surge of warmth and embarrassment begin to flare up until—

"Wait," he said suddenly, a grin forcing its way onto his face as he stared at her. "Just wait a minute."

Serana still refused to meet his eyes, even as he pointed a finger at her with a teasing grin plastered to his features.

"So _that's_ why you were so awkward about taking my blood."

 _That_ got her attention. "What?"

" _And_ why you were so irritated with poor Babette."

"N-No I wasn't."

He just kept grinning. "Oh yes you were. _That's_ why she was smiling at you so smugly. I offered, she took, and a _blind man_ could have seen the death glare you gave her as she was walking away."

"Well, I—I mean…"

"Admit it, Sera." Ketar drew closer to her and leaned down, almost nose to nose. "You were jealous."

Serana sputtered for a few moments before she crossed her arms defensively and glared at him. "So what if I was?"

He just grinned wider. "We weren't even _together_ then."

Her eyes narrowed. "And?"

Ketar leaned back against the railing and puffed his chest out smugly. "Nothing. Just seems to me you already knew what you wanted _long_ before I did."

Serana flushed an even deeper shade of scarlet before scowling and muttering, "Just for that…"

Ketar yelped in pain, then immediately started cackling as she cast the soul trap spell and offered the gem to the portal. She was still glaring into the portal as the offering was consumed and Ketar strode up to wrap his arms around her from behind, pressing a loud kiss to her cheek. His laughter carried on for a while before he fell quiet, still grinning.

"…you're gonna rag on me about this for a while, aren't you?"

"Oh yeah," Ketar replied emphatically.

Serana looked up at him desperately and practically whined, " _Why_? It's not even that big a deal."

He arched an amused eyebrow at her. "Who exactly are you trying to convince?"

Her eyes widened and faced the portal again.

Ketar chuckled. "I'm just glad I finally have something to tease _you_ about for once."

Serana sat in silence for a few moments before sighing. "Okay, fair enough." Her hands came up to gently grasp his holding arms as she leaned back into his embrace.

Ketar sensed her tension and frowned a bit. "You okay?"

She took a deep breath. "Yeah. Just…a bit nervous about seeing her. It's been centuries, after all."

"Yeah. I can't even _imagine_ how awkward _this_ conversation is gonna be." He sighed hard. "But…duty calls."

Serana snorted a laugh.

He reached down to lace his fingers with hers. "And I'll be with you every step of the way."

Her eyes brightened as she smiled up at him. "I know."

Her gaze hardened and turned back to the portal as they broke their embrace and began moving down the steps. A familiar hum and hiss filled the air, and she turned toward Ketar to see him encased, save for the hood and mask, in his Nightingale armor, sword still on his back between the armor and the cloak.

Ketar caught sight of her curious expression and shrugged. "If I'm gonna be physically weaker in there, best to go fully prepared."

Serana nodded. "Good thinking." She turned back to the portal and released a long breath before nodding firmly. "Okay. I'm ready."

Ketar smiled confidently and pulled up his hood, the mask forming over his features. "Then let's go."

And together, they leapt into the abyss.

* * *

AN: Yay! Another one! Pushing the Dawnguard story along, deepening their relationship…all-around what I think is a solid chapter. I hope you all agree. Otherwise, not much to say about this chapter. As always, I'm excited to see your feedback and hope to have more out soon.

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

Tomb Raider (2013) - The Scavenger's Den: start-2:42—unused outlet/entering the castle/feral vampire, 2:42-end—abandoned garden  
Thor: The Dark World - A Universe from Nothing: start-1:22—Sera's thoughts on Valerica/Ketar's promise/"thanks", 1:22-end—opening the portal/unforeseen effects/Ketar's options


	13. Beyond Death

To a man who had been carried halfway out of Nirn's atmosphere, tossed around like a ragdoll, and dropped off the side of a mountain, vertigo was nothing new. However, to feel the soul-crushing, life-draining sensation of all the blood rushing from his head combine with that vertigo…well, suffice to say, his legs gave out first. Only the strong arms and firm grip of the woman at his left kept him from tumbling down the levitating stairs of the Soul Cairn's entrance. It took a while for Ketar's blacked-out vision to begin to clear, but when it did, the world that greeted him didn't make him feel any better.

A desert landscape of ruins and barren trees, devoid of life or color except for a soft violet glow, overlaid with an impenetrable gloom that thickened the air to almost choking proportions.

"Well," he drawled weakly, pulling back his hood, "this is…"

"Charming," Serana concluded sarcastically.

Ketar snorted a weak laugh, slowly managing to regain his footing but still feeling a steady amount of dizziness.

"Suddenly I feel a surge of pity for Ancano."

Serana frowned down at him as they cautiously proceeded down the stairs. "Ancano?"

"Remember the Thalmor agent who tried to steal the Eye of Magnus?"

"Okay?"

"He did that when I was still a vampire. The ritual to cure myself required a filled black soul gem." He smirked. "So I used Ancano's. Seemed a fitting end for such a treacherous snake." His smile vanished. "But now…" he sighed, "let's just find Valerica." He glanced around. "I can barely _see_ in this place. Any idea where we'd even start looking?"

"No clue. If she's been in here since I went to sleep, she could be anywhere."

Ketar frowned and stopped at the base of the steps, freezing when he saw several violet orbs of light flying around. "Are those—"

"Souls? Yes. I'd advise we keep our contact with them to a minimum. No telling what their time here has done to their minds."

Ketar nodded and resumed moving. Their steps took them toward a dirt path carved through the center of the ruins strewn all about them.

"This architecture…it's unfamiliar to me," said Ketar. "Think the Ideal Masters built it?"

"Possibly, before they became…whatever they are now."

"Hm."

Ketar's steps felt…sluggish. He _hated_ feeling that sluggish. Made him feel like he was carrying a hundred extra pounds with every step. And like he was about to drop over and fall asleep any second. So, when Serana asked him something, he was grateful for the distraction—until he realized what she was asking about.

"Ketar…why are you so afraid of spiders?"

He tensed up for a moment before forcing himself to relax. "It's…kind of a long story."

She snorted and waved at their surroundings. "Not like we have anything _else_ to do."

Ketar sighed, conceding the point. "It started a long time ago, when I was eight years old. Travus, one of the Cloud Ruler monks, used to take me on hunting trips in the forests at the base of the Jerall Mountains. On one such trip, we were perched on a rocky hillside, overlooking a group of elk, and Travus was about to take a shot when the ground suddenly gave out under me." He motioned with his hand, miming the motion. "I fell…I don't know how far. I do know that I broke my leg on impact, could barely move. Barely even stayed conscious. And I kept calling out to Travus, but I must've been so far down or so out of it that his return voice never seemed to reach me.

"Apparently, I'd fallen into a ravine, part of an old cave system that crisscrossed the mountains, possibly of Dwemer or Ayleid make. Unable to look for an exit or even move, I dragged myself as far into the faint sunlight as possible and started praying." Ketar looked over at Serana. "Remember the amulet I carry?"

She arched an eyebrow and pointed at Nocturnal's Embrace.

He huffed. "No, the _other_ amulet."

Her orange eyes widened slightly. "Oh. Akatosh."

Ketar nodded. "I've had that amulet since I was a child. And I had it with me then when I started praying my little heart out." He frowned deeply. "Then I started hearing this…hissing sound, coming from the deepest part of the cave. It was pitch-black, save for where I was, so I had no idea what was in the darkness."

Serana's eyes went wide in horror as she started to catch on.

"But then the hissing started to intensify, and as time and my prayers went on, the faint light coming from the hole above me started glinting off something in the dark: eyes, numerous and incalculable."

"Oh…"

Ketar closed his eyes briefly and shuddered at the memory. "I was pinned. No weapons, barely any knowledge of magic, and nothing that would help me take on that many at once." He motioned with his hands. "Spiders: black, shiny, each as big as my head. And they started advancing. I shrunk back as far as I could and started praying harder and louder, with my fingers laced together." His head shook slowly. "They just kept coming." He winced. "And _then_ one of them jumped. And my hands flew apart—up and down. And suddenly, there was this… _blinding_ golden light filling the cave, lighting up the spiders and my own trapped situation."

Her eyebrows hiked upward. "You opened the rift."

He nodded slowly. "For the very first time. Of course, I had no idea what it was at the time, but I saw that the spider had vanished into it, and it was keeping me safe, so I poured all my energy into keeping it open. And I did, for a time. But they kept coming, and as you might think, I started to feel the weight after a while, until it became absolutely unbearable. The last I remember before passing out of exertion and pain was Travus, knocking down the rocks on the other side and carrying me out."

"Gods…I'm sorry."

Ketar shrugged. "It happened a long time ago, and apart from the leg, I came out unscathed. But…that memory stayed with me."

Serana frowned. "Those spiders…they're not still in the rift, are they?"

He barked a laugh. "Oh no. I explained what happened to the monks the next day, and they were as confused as I was, so they wanted me to try to do it again. And I did." His lips pursed. "What came out of the rift…well…there wasn't much left but charred exoskeletons."

Serana's eyebrows shot up. "They were…burnt?"

"To a crisp," Ketar confirmed.

"That…doesn't happen to your equipment, does it?"

His head shook. "Nope. I actually got the idea to store items in there as soon as I saw that the spiders returned—albeit in a crispy condition. I had to test whether or not the rift would do that to anything, so I sent a wooden practice sword in. Retrieved it without issue. Then I started wondering if, maybe, it only did that to living creatures. So I found a rat in the storehouse, innocuous, calm." He chuckled. "Kind of cute actually."

"And you threw it in the rift."

He nodded.

"What happened?"

"I waited an hour, then reopened it and…aside from being a little anxious, the mangy thing was fine."

She arched a curious eyebrow. "That's…weird."

Ketar smirked. "Eight-year-old me certainly agreed with you. So I tried it again, over and over, with the same result. And then I remembered: those spiders weren't just alive, they were aggressive. So I grabbed Niel and Katja and had them bring me the most vicious, rabid rat they could get their hands on and I threw it in the rift."

"And?"

He looked over at her. "Not ten minutes later, it came out little more than ash."

Serana frowned. "So…only things that try to kill you are harmed. That's…useful."

He shrugged. "For anything than can fit through the portal."

"The question is: why?"

Ketar shrugged again. "Honestly? I don't know. But…when I learned I was Dragonborn, I got to thinking: if my rift really is a portal to the realm of Akatosh, then I like to think maybe he knew what those vermin were trying to do me." His eyes narrowed. "And my father took exception to that." They fell silent for a while, Ketar looking over to see Serana's lips pursed in concentration. "What?"

She looked over at him. "Nothing. It's just…"

He arched an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"That's the second time I've heard you call Akatosh your father."

Ketar tilted his head. "Well, all dragons are the children of Akatosh, so…technically, he is."

"But, I mean…you had mortal parents, right? Even if they weren't there."

He frowned. "Yeah."

"And you obviously had people looking after you, people who cared about and loved you…yet you still consider Akatosh your father."

"Yes."

"What about Niel?"

Ketar sighed hard. "Niel…I loved Niel dearly, and I knew he felt the same—even if he had a funny way of showing it—but…he wasn't my father. I don't think he _ever_ could've filled that role. He was arguably the greatest teacher and mentor I've ever had. He taught me right from wrong, how to be a man. But…there was no nurturing, no affection beyond professional pride in my accomplishments."

"Plenty of fathers have done less."

His lips pursed. "Then they don't deserve to be called fathers. Niel will always have a special place in my heart and memory, but I don't think there's a single mortal in all Tamriel who could fill _that_ role." A snarl twitched his upper lip. "Especially not a pair of _meyye_ who abandoned their child at birth."

Serana gently took his hand. "You don't know that. They might have been like Niel, who stayed to fight while sending you off for your safety."

Ketar winced. "Yeah. Maybe. But it still sucked. And I'm getting _really_ sick of parents who make their children suffer 'for their safety.'"

She frowned and looked away while he gripped her hand tighter, noting that they'd walked quite the distance during their conversation, and were passing under a massive stone arch that looked like it had once been part of a much larger wall. Up ahead in the distance was a large, castle-like structure with two glowing spires and a wall of pure energy over its front. He exchanged a brief look with Serana before increasing his pace and forcing himself into a jog, his sluggish limbs trying to hold him back. He pushed through it and kept moving, the Nightingale armor giving him an extra boost of limberness as they rapidly climbed a hill to the steps of the castle entrance.

Ketar was feeling more winded than he had in a _long_ time by the time they reached the top, and bent over heaving as Serana came up and steadied him.

"I'm okay," he managed between gasps, wiping a hand over his face. "Getting soul trapped sucks." Ketar straightened up slowly, Serana still holding his hand and leading him along. "The hell am I supposed to fight like this?"

Serana smiled a little. "That's what _I'm_ here for, right?"

That got a small twitch of his lips, though it quickly turned into a frown. "Right."

"Kay—"

"I'm just…not used to being this _weak_."

She gripped his hand tighter. "It'll pass once we get outside, I promise."

He nodded and released a slow, steadying breath.

"Maker…it can't be."

The new voice caught both of their attentions, turning it toward the wall over the castle's entrance and a slender figure on the other side.

"Serana?!"

The girl's eyes went double-wide as she abruptly released Ketar's hand and rushed toward the barrier. "Mother! Are you…really…" Her face split in a gigantic grin, palms pressing against the transparent wall between them. "I can't believe it." She started probing the barrier and pounding against it with the side of her fist. "How do we reach you? We need to talk."

Ketar, on the other hand, noticed that Valerica—who looked so much like her daughter it was scary—was eyeing both of them with suspicion.

"Serana?" she asked dubiously. "What are you doing here? Where's your father?"

"He doesn't know we're here," Sera answered. "I don't have time to explain."

Valerica grimaced and started pacing. "I must have failed. Harkon's found a way to decipher the prophecy, hasn't he?"

Serana's eyes widened. "No, you've got it all wrong. We're here to complete the prophecy _our_ way, not his."

Valerica's eyes narrowed. "We?" And then her gaze turned to Ketar. "You've brought a stranger here…and he _isn't_ a thrall? Have you _lost your mind_?"

Serana blinked and Ketar arched an eyebrow, the former answering. "What?! No, you don't—this is Ketar Niel Dov, he's—"

Valerica stopped her with a raised hand, immediately silencing Serana, an instinctive reaction, as Ketar noted with some disquiet. "You," she said, pointing squarely at Ketar. "Come forward. I would speak with you."

Sighing internally, Ketar did so and stopped in front of the barrier, noting in his peripheral vision that Serana was nervously biting her lower lip.

"So…"

He arched an eyebrow. "So."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "How has it come to pass that a vampire hunter is in the company of my daughter?"

Ketar stopped short. "What makes you think—"

"Please. No matter what armor or weapon you use, I know the look when I see it. The wariness to your step, the hesitation in your movements, unwillingness to commit to any action until certain, for fear of being caught off-guard by something far faster."

Ketar smirked. "If it helps, I hunt _dragons_."

Her pointed glare effectively shut him up, and she let the silence drag on for a few moments before speaking again. "It pains me to think you'd travel with Serana under the guise of her protector in an effort to hunt me down."

His blue eyes stared at Valerica unblinkingly for a few moments before he turned to Serana with an exasperated sigh and hand over his face. "I swear, it's Isran all over…"

Sera gently took his hand and spoke in a soothing tone. "Just…bear with her. She's had a thousand extra years to get this way."

He grunted and nodded reluctantly, then turned back to Valerica, who was eyeing their linked hands with suspicion and no small amount of ire. "Look…it's not a ruse. There is _nothing_ more important to me than Serana's safety."

Valerica snorted, her eyes still glued to their linked hands until they met his. "Coming from one who murders vampires as a trade, I find it hard to believe your intentions are noble."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't—listen—"

"No, _you_ listen. Serana has sacrificed _everything_ to prevent Harkon from completing the prophecy." Valerica's eyes flickered to Serana. "I would have expected her to explain that to you."

"She did," he replied. "That's why we're here for the last Elder Scroll."

Her features twitched with something purely indignant. "You think I'd have the _audacity_ to place my _own daughter_ in that tomb for the protection of her Elder Scroll alone?" She huffed and shook her head. "The Scrolls are merely a means to an end. The key to the Tyranny of the Sun is Serana _herself_."

Ketar's blood went cold as he exchanged a look with Sera. " _What_?"

"When I fled Castle Volkihar, I fled with two Elder Scrolls. The Scroll I presume _you_ found with Serana speaks of Auriel and his arcane weapon, Auriel's Bow. The second Scroll declares that 'The Blood of Coldharbour's Daughter will blind the eye of the Dragon.'"

"Eye of the dragon…Coldharbour…okay, now you're speaking in riddles. I only got, like… _half_ of that."

Valerica sighed. "Like myself, Serana was a human once. We were devout followers of Lord Molag Bal. Tradition dictates the females be offered to Molag Bal on his summoning day. Few survive the ordeal. Those that do emerge as a pure-blooded vampire. We call such confluences the 'Daughters of Coldharbour.'"

Ketar's blood chilled again. "When you say… _offered_ …" He felt Serana tense at his side.

Valerica's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Missing. The. Point. Serana's blood is all that Harkon needs to darken the sun forever, and you may as well have delivered her right to his doorstep."

He gulped. "Well, technically…"

"It wasn't his fault," Serana interrupted. "He was just doing what I told him to."

"Enough!" Valerica snarled at Ketar. "If Harkon obtains Auriel's Bow and Serana's blood is used to taint the weapon, the Tyranny of the Sun will be complete."

"You mean…" Ketar hesitated for a moment, "he means to kill Serana? His own _daughter_?"

"In his eyes, she'd be dying for the good of all vampires."

Ketar fell silent for a while, his grip tightening around Serana's hand.

"Now you're beginning to see why I wanted to protect Serana, and why I've kept the other Elder Scroll as far from her as possible."

Ketar's mind began to fill with visions of that… _creature_ cutting down his Sera…spilling her neck open…and a fire started boiling his blood from the inside out. "I…will _never_ let that happen."

Valerica arched an eyebrow and eyed him like an amusing pet. "Oh?" Her arms crossed. "And how exactly do you plan on completing the prophecy without the death of my daughter?"

He snarled. "I'll _kill_ Harkon." He felt Serana's hand twitch against his.

Valerica laughed darkly. "If you believe that, then you're a bigger fool than I originally suspected. Don't you think I _weighed_ that option before I enacted my plans?"

"And what about Serana?"

She blinked. "What _about_ her?"

His ire was roused even further as Serana eyed him with increasing alarm. "Did you ever _once_ stop to consider what she might think of all this?"

Valerica scowled furiously. "You care _nothing_ for Serana or our plight!"

Ketar began pacing, releasing Sera's hand as the fire inside stoked hotter and hotter.

"Whether or not you chose to work with one of us in order to survive the Soul Cairn, you're still a vampire hunter at heart. You're here because we're abominations in your mind. Evil creatures that need to be _destroyed_."

Finally snapping, Ketar whirled on her and roared, " _Shut the hell up_! You have no _idea_ who or _what_ I am! You cannot _comprehend_ the resources and _power_ I wield." He got as far up in her face as he could with the barrier in the way. "If I really wanted you and your kind dead, you'd _be dead_." He smiled nastily. "Frankly, this conversation isn't helping your case any. In fact," he pointed at her accusingly, "I'm _really_ starting to wonder why I'm not treating _you_ how I'll treat _Harkon_!"

His right hand was abruptly grabbed, the contact snapping him out of his haze and getting him to look down at a wide-eyed Serana. Immediately, he felt a wave of shame wash over him at the terrified shine in her eyes and wiped a hand over his face, sighing. It was a few moments before he spoke again.

"But all I need to get my answer is to look beside me," he said. "I'm not here for _you_ , Valerica. I don't _need_ you." He looked down at Serana. "I'm here for her." His gaze snapped back to Valerica. "Because she believes you're worth saving. That you're not too far gone. That you're better than Harkon…or at least can be." He frowned deeply, eyebrows furrowing. "And because one way or another, Harkon _will_ have to die for this to end…and I don't want to see Serana robbed of _both_ her parents." He felt the grip around his hand tighten. "I've been there…" his head shook slowly, "it's not something I would wish on anyone."

Valerica stared at him, completely dumbstruck until she turned her gaze toward her daughter. "Serana? This stranger aligns himself with those who would hunt you down and slay you like an animal, yet I should entrust you to him as your guardian?" Her eyes once again narrowed at their contact. "Or more?"

Noting her tension, Ketar made to hold Serana's hand tighter, but she gave him a reassuring nod and stepped forward, away from him.

"First off, Ketar's allegiances were _never_ with the Dawnguard, but with himself and his own moral code."

Valerica arched an eyebrow. "And you think that's better?"

Then _Serana_ snapped. "Considering this 'stranger' has done more for me in the brief time I've known him than you've done in centuries, yeah, I do!"

Valerica snarled. "How dare you! I gave up _everything_ I cared about to protect you from that fanatic you call a father!"

"Yes, he's a fanatic…" Sera's voice softened, "he's changed. But he's still my father." Her head bowed. "Why can't you understand how that makes me feel?"

Ketar's heart wrenched—she sounded on the edge of tears.

Her mother sighed. "Oh, Serana. If you'd only open your eyes. The moment your father discovers your role in the prophecy, that he needs your blood, you'd be in terrible danger."

Serana's head snapped back up. "So to protect me, you decided to shut me away from everything I cared about?" She huffed. "You never _asked_ me if hiding in that tomb was the best course of action, you just expected me to follow you blindly. _Both_ of you were obsessed with your own paths. Your motivations might have been different, but in the end, I'm still just a pawn to you, too. You want to know why I trust _him_ more than either one of you?"

Valerica's lips pursed tightly.

Serana's jaw tightened. "Because he's the first person in _centuries_ to give me a choice."

The elder vampire could no longer meet her daughter's gaze.

Sera approached the barrier and laid a hand on its surface. "I want us to be a family again…but I don't know if we can ever have that." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Maybe we don't deserve that kind of happiness. Maybe it isn't for us." Her tone hardened as the hand on the barrier curled into a fist. "But we _have_ to stop him. Before he goes too far. And to do that, we need the Elder Scroll."

Valerica was at a complete loss for words as she paced the area beyond the barrier. "I…" she turned back to Serana, "I'm sorry. I didn't know." She gulped, features pinched in regret. "I didn't see. I've…allowed my hatred of your father to estrange us for too long." Her glowing eyes softened as she placed her hand against the barrier, opposite Serana's. "Please…forgive me. If you want the Elder Scroll, it's yours."

And like that, Ketar noticed a change in Valerica—subtle, but nowhere near subtle enough to escape his notice. Her eyes, so clouded and dangerous before, but now…

 _They're just like Serana's._

They said that eyes are the window to the soul. Perhaps it was because of their unnatural qualities, but Ketar felt that with vampires, that age-old adage was so much truer. For the first time since they'd met, and probably the first time in centuries, Valerica's eyes were filled with… _hope_. And it made him smile.

Until she opened her mouth again.

"You."

Ketar blinked, realizing she was talking to him.

Valerica frowned. "Your intentions are still somewhat unclear to me."

Ketar rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in exasperation. "Oh for the love of—"

She stopped him with a hand. " _But_ —for Serana's sake, I'll assist you in any way that I can."

He sighed. "I'll take it. You mentioned if Serana wanted the Elder Scroll, it was hers. Does that mean you have it with you?"

"Yes. I've kept it safely secured here ever since I was imprisoned."

"Yeah, speaking of which…" He looked around the castle, eyes eventually landing back on the barrier after a while. "What the hell is this thing made of? I'm getting some _weird_ feelings from this wall."

Serana blinked. "Wait—imprisoned?"

Valerica nodded. "By the Ideal Masters. When I entered the Soul Cairn, I had intended to strike a bargain with them. I requested refuge in the Soul Cairn, and in exchange, I would provide the Ideal Masters the souls that they craved. If I had foreseen the value they placed on my _own_ soul, I would never have come here."

"They tricked you," Ketar said.

"The Ideal Masters unleashed their Keepers and sent them to destroy me. Fortunately, I was able to hold them at bay and retreat into these ruins."

Ketar couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride from Serana.

"Since the Keepers weren't able to claim my soul, they had their minions construct a barrier that I'd never be able to breach, using a network of special crystals and the souls of the…unfortunates stuck here to create a—"

"Perfect gem," Ketar interrupted in a slightly awed tone. "I'm familiar with it."

Serana smirked. "He has one protecting the Staff of Magnus in Winterhold."

Valerica stared at her daughter, then slowly dragged a wary gaze back to Ketar, who was still marveling at the barrier.

"I've never seen one so expansive, yet so solid," he said. "It would take _centuries_ to even make a crack."

"More than that," Valerica disputed. "Believe me. I've tried."

He frowned. "Right. Which leaves us in a tight spot. Though if they _are_ using a perfect gem configuration, I'd guess all we need to do is find the stones and cut them off from their power source."

"Precisely."

"Any idea where we'd start?"

Valerica nodded. "You need to locate the tallest of the rocky spires that surround these ruins. At their bases, the barrier's energy is being drawn from unfortunate souls that have been exiled here. Destroy the Keepers that are tending them, and it should bring the barrier down."

Ketar frowned. "Why the Keepers?"

"The souls that power the stones run through them like a sieve. Cut them down, and they'll go free."

He nodded, his expression turning curious as he cocked his head. "Wait…if these Keepers are the guardians of recently acquired souls…do you think one of them could be carrying mine?"

Valerica arched an eyebrow, then turned to her daughter with an impressed look. "Ah, so you went _that_ route."

"Didn't see much choice," Serana replied. "He didn't want me to turn him." She frowned up at him. "And trust me, he has _very_ good reasons for that."

He smiled at the show of solidarity.

Valerica sighed. "To answer your question: yes, it is quite possible one of them bears your soul."

"And if I could retrieve it from them?" he asked.

"Then the weakness you no doubt feel right now will vanish. But they will not give it up without a fight."

Ketar's lips made a feral grin. "Perfect. Kill two birds with one stone. Consider it done."

"In the meantime, look for the spongy husks strewn about the Soul Cairn. Consuming one may give you some temporary relief."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

"We'll be back soon," Serana called as they both turned to keep moving.

"One more word of warning," Valerica shouted, stopping them. "There's a dragon that calls itself Durnehviir roaming the Cairn. Be wary of him. The Ideal Masters have charged him with overseeing the Keepers, and will undoubtedly intervene if you're perceived as a threat." Her gaze landed solely on Ketar. "Be careful, and keep my daughter safe."

Ketar smiled warmly. "With my very life. And trust me, it wouldn't be the first dragon I've slain."

Valerica nodded. "Then go. And hurry. The longer you're here, the more the Ideal Masters will become aware of your presence, and they will _not_ leave you be."

Ketar nodded and broke off into a jog down the stairs. The moment they were out of Valerica's sight, he was tackled into a wall—which pretty much knocked the wind out of him—and was shocked to see that it was Serana who'd done it. His shock only increased when she practically started smothering him in deep, passionate kisses, only breaking apart when he genuinely started pushing her away in distress at the lack of air. A few coughs and gasps of breath later, and they were staring at each other, Serana staring at him with the same look she'd given him in Breezehome, right after their first kiss, like he was…well, either something incredible or something incredibly tasty. Honestly, either could've been it at that moment.

Turned out it was the former.

Serana lunged forward and pulled him into a nearly crushing embrace, her face buried in his neck. "Thank you, Kay," she sighed.

Ketar blinked and held her back. "For what?"

She pulled away just enough to look up at him. "For being here with me, for standing by me…for standing up to my mother and giving me the courage to do the same. You have… _no_ idea what it's like, to finally be free of a yoke I feel I've lived with all my life."

Finally understanding, Ketar smiled down at her and leaned forward to press his lips to hers insistently. A small squeak of surprise came from her throat when he deepened their mouths' embrace and gently tugged at her lower lip with his teeth. They broke away a moment later, and Ketar almost felt the entirety of his weakness leave at the look in her eyes—definitely incredibly tasty this time. He felt his tongue twist and tie itself in knots when she repeatedly tapped the tip of her right index finger against his lower lip.

"When this is over, and we're no longer in danger of being soul-sucked…" her eyes lit up with a downright lecherous fire, "we are going to have some _alone_ time together."

Ketar gulped nervously, face completely aflame. "Um…okay."

In an effort to hasten this, Serana grabbed his hand and started half-dragging him toward the Keeper spires.

…

To say that the spires were intimidating was like saying puppies were cute. It was more than a given. It was insufficient. As for the Keepers themselves, well…if Ketar had been wielding anything less than Dragonborn's Fury, he might've been very nervous, because considering his already-apparent physical weakness, it was _not_ a good sign that the, oh, twelve-foot-tall Keepers were arrayed in a full set of armor made of dragonbone. The first one was found at the base of a half-collapsed building, under a rectangular archway, bearing a dragonbone sword and shield and brandishing both as soon as it saw them coming.

Ketar's hood went up, a mask forming around his features as he felt the old familiar power of Nocturnal thrum through his blood. The natural darkness of this place would certainly lend itself to his Nightingale abilities. Or so he thought as he charged around the Keeper on one side, Serana taking the other. He wrapped the Shadowcloak of Nocturnal around himself, feeling himself engulfed in the depths of darkness and concealed from sight. Except for some reason, the blasted thing knew _exactly_ where he was, so when he leapt for its neck with his ebony dagger, it caught him on the flat side of its shield and dumped him into the ground. His head came up in time for him to roll away from a cleaving downward strike that never would've impacted him anyway.

The dragonbone blade was caught on an ebony one, Serana's relatively slight form holding back the strike and matching this creature strength for strength. For the umpteenth time since they'd met, Ketar felt a wave of gratitude and awe flow through him at the sight of his companion and lunged around to the Keeper's exposed left flank, diving for a chink in its armor. The Keeper bashed Serana's blade away and swung its sword for Ketar's head, the Dragonborn narrowly escaping decapitation as he rolled under the strike and plunged his dagger into the accursed thing's ankle. Roaring in pain, it collapsed to one knee, still trying to hit him.

Serana cast a kinetic bolt into its helmet, temporarily blinding it by misaligning the eyeslits. Or again, so they thought. Sera lunged forward with a stab between two plates of armor covering its chest only to have her blade deflected by its dragonbone one and her shoulder slammed with the slim edge of its shield. She cried out in pain as the limb was nearly dislocated, withdrawing from a swipe that almost beheaded her and backpedaling by leaps and bounds. Roaring in rage, Ketar sheathed his ebony dagger and leapt forward with Dragonborn's Fury drawn, a diagonal strike carving deep gashes in its back armor. He was forced to duck down when it spun counterclockwise and swept its shield right over his head, lunging forward and stabbing it directly in the heart—or where its heart should've been.

Whatever the case, that seemed to do the trick, as it roared and screeched like a banshee until its body fell limp, the dragonbone armor collapsing into a pile with nothing inside except a shard of the perfect gem's focus and filled soul gems.

Ketar looked over at a heavily breathing Serana, pulling back his hood and mask and dashing over to her. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand to stop him.

"I'm—I'm okay. That was just—" she winced in pain and gripped her injured right shoulder, "—a little closer than I'd have liked. Thanks."

He pursed his lips and nodded. "Need to feed?"

Serana arched an eyebrow. "In your condition?" Her head shook. "I can deal. Unless I'm weakened by garlic or excessive sunlight, I heal pretty fast already." She smirked. "And I don't see either of those anywhere around here." Her eyes darted about, stopping on something. "Speaking of which."

She nodded toward one of the spongy growths Valerica had mentioned earlier and strode over to it, cutting a large piece off with her dagger. While she harvested the husk, Ketar made for the Keeper's body and started digging through the hollow of its armor, retrieving its soul gems and searching for the one that contained his soul. Not finding it, he briefly considered taking the dragonbone armor, but decided that it was A: too heavy to even carry in the rift, and B: would never be able to be reshaped for use by anyone in his company. A smirk twitched his lips.

 _Not even Farkas._

Without adequate resizing, the armor was just an extremely valuable paperweight, so he left it behind and picked up the sword instead. In the Keeper's hands, it was just a regular sidearm sword, but in his, it was an outright greatsword, and definitely of superior craftsmanship. He had to wonder where they got the resources—though if the Ideal Masters were powerful enough to enslave one dragon to do their bidding, he could bet others had fallen prey to them as well. Whatever the case, the heavy weapon and the gems went into the rift.

…

The second Keeper was found in an open courtyard, surrounded by familiar yet unfamiliar forms of undead. Glossy black silhouettes of skeletons and floating undead arose from piles of bones scattered about the stones, six or eight in all. Ketar assumed they would be of little threat, given their success against the skeletons in the Volkihar ascent. He was wrong. Quite to the contrary, these "bonemen" and "wrathmen" were quite the undead specimens, even against the most shattering of attacks, including Serana's kinetic bolts and Ketar's Unrelenting Force Shout. It was another such Shout, Spoken with more force and anger than was entirely necessary, that finally threw the last of them against a stone wall and blew them to pieces.

When they finally shattered, though, they didn't stay together. No, they faded back into the ether, like dissipating mist. Which made him very concerned. After all, there was no telling if they'd reassemble. With that unsettling thought in mind, he moved for the Keeper, who was toting a dragonbone bow and arrows, this time. He didn't even want to _think_ about the kind of damage it could do with those, so he charged toward it around one side of the courtyard while Serana took the other, both moving inhumanly fast. Say what he would about the taste and texture of the soul husk Serana had fed him, he couldn't possibly hope to argue with the results, and after being slowed and weakened for so long, to have his full strength suddenly return was like…well, he wasn't complaining.

Especially when he saw two arrows fly in his direction side-by-side and was forced to slide under their paths when he was unable to sidestep in time. His prone position left him vulnerable, and the Keeper knew this, so it tried to flatten him with a stomp.

" _Feim_!"

Ketar went intangible right as its boot caved in the ground where his body had stopped, the ethereal blue form of his body glinting in the faint light of the Soul Cairn as he leapt straight upward. He became solid again perched on its shoulder and yanked at its helmet, pulling it clean off only to freeze for a moment at what he found on the other side: no face, no head; only a cluster of roiling black smoke.

And two glowing blue eyes staring back from within the darkness.

His moment of hesitation was enough for the thing to grab his cape with its firing arm and throw him off, dumping him on the ground. Several bony barbs on the front of its massive bow dug into the ground when it tried to skewer him. Serana started bombarding the creature with lightning bolts that chained and curled throughout its armored body, the effects seeming more potent than any other magic they'd tried before—which made sense because this thing was likely some form of wraith. That was when Ketar finally figured out why the Shadowcloak hadn't worked: the Keepers didn't just have eyes, they were beings of pure spirit, attuned to the resonance and power of souls.

They didn't need to see him to kill him; the smell of his soul was enough to draw their attention, especially because one of them was undoubtedly carrying part of it.

Regardless, Ketar now knew what he had to do, so he withdrew and sheathed all his weapons, sapphire ring flaring with light as he gathered magicka in his hands and charged a massive plasma bolt. His aim was nothing less than perfect, striking the thing directly in its…"head" and causing its smoking ethereal body to dissipate with another ear-splitting screech. The moment the empty armor hit the ground, Ketar felt the effects of the soul husk leave him, and he sagged with a sudden wave of pure _exhaustion_. Serana was at his side instantly, with another husk at the ready. He reluctantly took it and bit into the tasteless, leathery substance, forcing it down his gullet and quickly becoming annoyed with the lack of his soul essence on this Keeper.

"The last one must have it," Serana said in a calming tone.

He sighed hard. "Yeah, must be. Remind me again why your mother thought coming here was a good idea?"

Serana shrugged. "I guess she thought with all the other undead around, she'd fit right in."

"Yeah…definitely having a long talk with her after all this." He stumbled to his feet, feeling all the aches and pains and exhaustion even as the soul husk started taking effect. "If I'm still awake."

Sera just chuckled, frowning a few moments later when they spotted the last spire: a _massive_ floating tower off in the distance. Even from almost a quarter mile away, they could see the final Keeper standing watch atop the levitating structure. Whatever it was holding as a weapon was _massive_ , and he could practically feel its unnatural eyes on them. Gritting his teeth, he pulled his hood back up and took off toward the tower with Serana in tow.

…

If the Ideal Masters' plan was to wear Ketar and Serana down so they'd be too tired to fight by the time they reached the final Keeper, they were doing a very good job of it. Boneman after wrathman after undead dog came at them, rapidly cut down by Serana's spells and Dragonborn's Fury but more constantly arising and assailing them from every corner. By the time they reached a portal that would take them to the Keeper, Ketar was stumbling and practically pitching over in exhaustion. Not even the soul husks were helping anymore. Serana, seeing this, gripped his shoulder firmly and frowned up at him.

"Sit this one out, Kay. These things aren't that tough."

Ketar shook his head.

" _This_ is why I'm here. You can barely stand."

"I said _no_ , Sera. I'm going with you, and that's final. I just need a second."

Serana frowned and nodded slowly, releasing him. She stared at him with pursed lips for barely another second before turning around and sprinting into the portal—leaving him behind.

"Sera! _Sera_!"

…

 _Sorry, Kay…_

Serana's eyes went wide when she caught sight of the final Keeper, who was holding a massive dragonbone battleaxe. At present, the axe was resting hilt-first on the ground, its wielder's hands braced on the top of its head. The Keeper was the very image of relaxed guard, despite having a pureblooded vampire standing just thirty feet away from it. Serana's jaw set as she drew her sword—the sword Ketar had given her—and squared up with the Keeper.

 _…but this is for your own good._

She began twirling her ebony blade in lazy figure-eights, steadily striding toward the Keeper, then lunging and spinning her body with a falling diagonal strike once she got within striking distance. Faster than anything that size had any business being, it withdrew and twirled its axe into a ready position, deflecting her second and third strikes, and catching the fourth between the axe's haft and blade. With a single, powerful turn of its hips, the Keeper wrenched Serana's sword from her fingers, then swung in the opposite direction with a cleaving strike that would have cut her in two had she not slid shins-first under its blow. She rolled forward upon coming to a stop, fingers snatching up her sword and bringing it up into a wing-block as the dragonbone axe-head skidded off her blade and into the stones below.

She countered with a falling cavalry cut to its chest, the blade carving a deep gash in the bone armor, but otherwise doing no damage. A lunging knee to the face was all she got for her troubles, the sheer strength of it actually managing to lay her out. Snarling, she barrel-rolled away from its falling executioner's cut, the axe digging deep into the stone and leaving it open to a slash at its neck. Its armored gauntlet actually caught her sword by the blade and used her forward momentum to toss her against the inner wall of the tower, once again disarming her. The Keeper didn't give her a moment of rest, picking her up by the leg and throwing her in the opposite direction—off the side of the tower.

Her free-fall was long, and the impact was going to be…painful. Well, until her body was enveloped in darkness, that is.

The Keeper began striding up the steps of the floating tower, axe slung on its shoulder, but stopped short halfway to the top, slowly turning to face the empty air. Well, _mostly_ empty air.

Right there, barely twenty feet off the side of the tower's open ascent, was a darkly beautiful creature of the night. Pale gray, leathery skin drawn over tightly formed bones and wings, with scant but luxurious velvet and leather coverings over the chest and lower body. Hands and feet with long, black claws sharp as razors. A head with shoulder-length, jet-black hair, viciously sharp fangs, pointed ears, eyes the color of a sunset foreign to the Soul Cairn.

And an unmistakable golden crown of nobility.

A pureblooded vampire lord, powerful, ancient—and very much incensed—glared and growled at the Ideal Masters' wraith from her hovering position, every muscle in her body tensing for a moment before she dashed through the air and _pounced_ on the Keeper. Her feet were first, talons gouging through the armor and digging deep into its shoulder while her claws relentlessly slashed at its helmet. Serana didn't let up for a second, not even as it swung the butt end of its axe at her and nearly clipped one of her wings off. She flew upward, curling and twisting through the air, feeling an otherworldly euphoria as the wind rushed past and around her transformed body.

A ravenous bloodlust consumed her from the inside out as the Keeper readied itself for her next attack, its body twirling with a rising diagonal strike meant to cover a wide area. She reoriented her body at the last second, back to the ground, the axe-head passing right over her head as she outstretched her hands and dug all her claws at once into the hateful thing's chest. Her claws slashed again and again as she tackled the Keeper to the ground, disarming it and further widening the gash she'd caused with her sword. It wasn't until she pried its helmet off that the wraith finally managed to fight back, grabbing her right arm mid-strike and pulling to the side hard. And she suddenly remembered—too late—the damage that had been done to that shoulder by another Keeper.

A distorted, high-pitched shriek came from her throat as her right shoulder was completely dislocated, even her transformed physiology failing to keep up with the pain and damage despite her attempts to sap the wraith with blood magic. Apparently, it had no life within it besides the souls it sapped, something not even her vampire body could absorb in itself. The Keeper's gauntleted fists slammed into her lower ribs hard, causing another cry to come from her throat as she thrashed about wildly and tried to use her remaining good arm to cut through its head. It slapped her strike aside and backhanded her in the face, then reached down with both hands and twisted one of her wings in the complete wrong direction.

The searing pain completely blinded her, her vision returning a few moments later, but by then the Keeper had retrieved its weapon and was readying to split her open with it.

 _Twang!_

Three whistles like the flight of a bird split the air as three corresponding black arrows dug into the Keeper's side, their angles indicating the source as somewhere below. Groaning and biting down against the pain, Serana dragged herself toward the edge and looked over to see Ketar, far off in the distance below them, his Nightingale Bow drawn back and fired over and over again, the Keeper starting to dodge the shots as they came. Ketar eventually gave up on long-range and began sprinting for the portal, giving the Keeper the opportunity to refocus its attentions on Serana.

But this time, she was ready.

Snarling, Serana felt a well of dark power surge within her as the axe fell, its blade passing right through her—or rather, her body passing around it, in a swarm of inky black bats, and reassembling on its other side. With her last vestiges of strength, she lunged forward and dug her left hand's claws into the back of its leg, forcing it down to one knee. It thrust the back of its axe at her, hitting her dead center and knocking her back into the tower's inside wall. Feeling her power sap away, darkness enveloped Serana once more as she reverted to human form, clutching her right shoulder as she sagged to her knees against the wall, her face twisted into a grimace of pain.

The Keeper recovered far faster than she'd expected, rising to its feet just moments after her reversion and striding up to her. She tried to stand, but her legs refused to cooperate; magic, but her powers failed her. It slowly brought the axe-blade up to her neck, tipping her head upward as she glared defiantly, then drew the weapon back for a horizontal cleave.

" _Wuld—_ "

Hope rang in her blood at the otherworldly echo of his Voice even as the Keeper's weapon swung forward.

"— _Nah-Kest_!"

The massive axe came in fast.

Ketar was faster.

A supersonic _crack_ split the humming air as the jet-black form of Ketar's Nightingale armor barreled into the Keeper's chest, his momentum and force tackling it clear off the tower's edge as its weapon flew from its grasp and buried itself between two stones just inches above Serana's head.

…

Whatever weakness had persisted in him after the fights with the other Keepers was completely _gone_ now, Ketar's ebony dagger digging into the wraith's breastplate—into one of the many gashes formed by Serana's assault—and pulling like a lever. It was here, he could _feel_ it. And just as they closed to around three hundred feet off the ground, he saw it: the soul essence gem containing his offering to the Ideal Masters.

"I believe—" he dug his hand into the hole, glancing at the rapidly approaching ground in alarm, "—this is mine!"

The gem shattered in his grip as he crushed it with one hand, feeling a massive wave of strength and power fill him as he took in a breath and Shouted.

" _Feim_!"

Suffice to say, Ketar's ethereal, untouchable form survived the impact of hitting the ground at a hundred thirty-five miles an hour.

The Keeper did not.

…

Serana practically had to drag herself into the portal, hoping beyond hope that—

 _Oh, thank the gods._

On the other end of the portal's light, back on solid ground, was Ketar, standing over the shattered remains of the Keeper's body and reassembling the shards of the perfect gem core from all three Keepers even as the barrier's energy dissipated. When he caught sight of her, his mask was still on, and he tucked the gem into a pouch at the back of his belt, then to her astonishment, pulled Nocturnal's Embrace off his chest, the armor rapidly retracting into the amulet. Revealing his dangerously neutral expression.

And storming blue eyes.

And then he started stalking toward her. For the first time in her life, she had the sudden urge to retreat from him, but rooted herself in place, knowing she deserved it. She winced and closed her eyes when he rapidly raised his arm, cracking one open when she didn't feel an impact and staring at him in confusion when she saw his arm hovering right in front of her face, minus a bracer.

Her confusion persisted until he said—well, more like growled, "Drink."

Serana gaped. "But—you—"

"I retrieved my soul. I'm back to full strength. Now drink."

"Ketar—"

His jaw clenched briefly before he lunged forward and curled one arm around her lower back, holding her in place, the other hand going to the back of her head and crushing her lips against his for a brief but passionate embrace. His eyes were still storming with anger—and no small amount of fear—when they broke apart.

And his voice was unbearably fragile. "Drink."

A lump rising in her throat, she faintly nodded and bent her head down to his wrist even as he used his grip on her head to shift her in a different direction. Her eyes widened when she realized his intent, and reluctantly pushed up a bit onto her toes as he leaned down a bit. He flinched just slightly when, gently as she could, her fangs punctured his neck and started drawing. A slight grunt of pain came from Serana's throat as her dislocated shoulder forced itself right, his dragon blood flooding her veins like healing fire and setting her tortured body right in mere seconds—far faster than any other feeding. She drew away as soon as everything was repaired, gently pressing a fond kiss to his ruptured skin and slowly pulling away to arm's length to look up at him.

Her features twitched in guilt at the wild, fearfully focused look in his eyes.

"Don't," he rasped, " _ever_. Do that again."

"Ketar—"

"I don't want to hear it!" He gave her a perfectly stern look. "I gave your mother my word that I would keep you safe, and you almost made me break that promise, in some effort to spare me a little work."

"To keep you from getting _killed_!"

His eyes narrowed. "Do you really have that little faith in me?"

Serana huffed and pushed away from him. "It's not _about_ faith! It's about accepting limitations! Ketar, I get that you want to protect me, but I am perfectly capable of defending myself."

"I _know_ that."

"Then why insist on—"

"Because _you're_ forgetting that _you_ have limitations too!"

The air fell silent.

Ketar grabbed her right arm roughly. "With the damage already in place, that thing could've torn this arm _clean_ off. And you wouldn't have been able to do a damn thing about it. _That_ is why we go together, no matter what. Because where one falls, the other is there to _pick them up_." His jaw tightened and eyes reddened. "But if one of us falls alone…"

Serana hugged herself as Ketar started pacing. "Kay…I get it."

His gaze snapped to her. "Do you?"

She nodded. "I don't like it. But I get it. Fighting alone _always_ comes with a risk, but sometimes, it's the only way _to_ fight."

He frowned. "Last resort, Sera." He reached out and gently took her right hand, lacing his fingers with hers. " _Last_ , not first."

Serana gulped and nodded again. "Last, not first."

Ketar drew her closer and pressed his lips against hers, taking the initiative and gently slipping his tongue against hers, once again getting a surprised noise from her throat. They slowly pulled apart, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed. They stood there for a while until Serana turned her eyes toward the castle.

"The barrier's down," she said. "Finally." She turned back to him and grasped his hands in hers, gently tugging him along. "Come on. We don't want to get caught out here."

Ketar nodded. "Agreed." His usual confident smile slowly rose to his lips. "Race you there."

Serana arched an eyebrow at the challenge. "Really?"

"Really."

He knelt down and slapped Nocturnal's Embrace back onto his chest, the Nightingale armor surrounding him and making him lighter and faster than ever.

"On your mark," Serana laughed.

"Get set."

They both took runner's stances, lining up next to each other and exchanging grins before facing forward and shouting in tandem.

"Go!"

* * *

AN: One of you guys told me you found the Soul Cairn boring. I hope this chapter dissuaded you of this. As always, it's great to hear from my readers, and I really feel the need to get comments on this chapter in particular. I felt kind of weird writing it. Not sure why. Maybe because I pretty much did it all in one sitting and haven't eaten for like eight hours…yeah that's probably it. Anyway, give me your opinions and comments as you like. Hope you liked it and are looking forward to more.

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine - Titans of Infamy: Serana duels the final Keeper/transformation/crippled shoulder; The Beast of Beauclair: start-1:24—Ketar's intervention/bat swarm/set for beheading, 1:24-end—Whirlwind Sprint/fatal fall


	14. Unseen Visions

A distant noise from beyond the now-dissipated barrier drew Valerica's attention from her endless worrying, and she strained to hear it for a few moments before it suddenly became _much_ clearer. And more confusing.

 _Is that…_ laughter _?_

Her thoughts were interrupted as she caught sight of two figures rapidly approaching the castle, one in all black, the other red and black. Valerica's jaw dropped and eyes went double-wide at the sight of her daughter, running toward her at top speed and actually being _matched_ by that human—by Ketar. And both of them laughing their little heads off about it. They practically _flew_ up the steps to the entrance, sliding to a stop where Valerica had first spotted them before and exchanging words in a loud (and entirely humorous) argument.

"You used the Embrace!" Serana shouted.

"And you're a _vampire_!" he shouted back. "You _already_ have an unfair advantage."

"You have dragon blood."

"Which gives me increased stamina, strength, speed, and healing…"

Serana smirked. "I rest my case."

"…to a _much_ lesser degree."

"Nope," she replied flippantly, turning and sauntering toward the entrance. "I rest my case, and that's the end of it."

"Why can't you just accept the tie with grace?"

Serana shot him a toothy grin. "Because I'm a sore loser who loves to see you squirm." She wagged her eyebrows as she strode toward her mother, swaying her hips as she went.

And Valerica's eyebrows made a valiant effort to join her hairline when she saw the human—Ketar, she mentally corrected—blush like the horizon at sunrise and follow behind like a lost puppy. The vampire matron internally cringed.

 _A_ puppy _? Really? I've spent_ far _too much time in this place if I'm making such childish analogies. Going senile._

Serana's voice snapped her out of her musings. "Mother. Are you all right? Nothing came by while we were away, did it?"

Valerica shook her head. "Whatever you did to those Keepers must have scared their underlings off. Though now we will undoubtedly have attracted the attention of Durnehviir." She turned toward the entry door. "Be wary, both of you."

"Like I said," Ketar stated firmly as he drew a midnight-black sword off his back, "not the first dragon I've slain."

Valerica gave him a sharp nod of respect, then pushed the gate open.

…

As long as they'd spent together—meaning basically every hour of every day for almost a month—it was still always fascinating watching Ketar work. Serana's glowing eyes were drawn to his posture, always so calm and professional, but now utterly relaxed as they proceeded from the entry gate into a _massive_ open courtyard that looked like it had once housed many residents in various shattered buildings strewn about the dystopian landscape. Oh, and gravestones. Lots and lots of gravestones.

 _Charming,_ echoed Serana's thoughts from her first steps into the Soul Cairn.

Suddenly, she detected a subtle shift in air currents—a familiar one too—and turned to the sky. "Dragon!"

Ketar and Valerica snapped to match her line of sight, the latter calling out, "It's Durnehviir! Defend yourselves!"

Ketar twirled his sword in a series of intricate spins—utterly impossible without either enhanced strength, an incredibly light and well-balanced weapon, or both—and set himself into a deep stance, pulling up his hood and mask. Valerica drew an ebony dagger from her hip, readying a familiar spell in her other hand—a kinetic bolt, to be precise. Serana didn't bother drawing a weapon, instead preparing a charged lightning spell and channeling it with both hands. Durnehviir's entrance was nothing less than dramatic and nothing more than threatening, coming in from straight above to land on a tower at the far end of the plaza and glare down at them threateningly.

Though Serana had only had the misfortune of meeting one dragon in the flesh, she could tell this one's time in the Soul Cairn had done unfortunate things to his appearance. Rather than the proud, gleaming scales possessed by Vedsosvith, Durnehviir's armored hide was gray and rotting, caked over and cracked in numerous places, as if already a rotting corpse.

Serana snorted. _How fitting for a grave keeper._

Exchanging a look with a masked Ketar, Serana waited for the dragon to make the first move, feeling her spell's energy roiling and churning within her grip, desperate for release. As it happened, Durnehviir made the first move.

" _Diil-Qoth-Zaam_!"

And like that, battle commenced.

…

Ketar was fluent in most, if not all, of the dragon language, so he recognized the words of the wyrm's Shout, but had never heard them put together before. And certainly never seen the effects of such a Shout. All around the plaza, gravestones tipped and shattered as various glossy black and armored undead clawed their way from the dirt, dragging weapons of assorted make, likely once belonging to them in life.

"Okay…this is a problem," he stated, voice distorted by his mask.

Durnehviir taking off, on the other hand, was an even bigger problem. Seeing as how he was out of range, Serana turned her charged lightning spell on a tight cluster of undead, killing some of the weaker ones, but only pissing off the larger, tougher wrathmen.

Ketar exchanged a look with Valerica before shouting, "Go help Sera! Durnehviir is _mine_!"

The ancient vampire gave him a firm nod, then sprinted off even faster than Serana, bowling over a wrathman and pulling his head off barehanded. Ketar's eyes widened briefly at the sight before a skyward roar drew his attention back to the undead dragon bearing down on them. A deep breath was inhaled as Durnehviir swooped in for the kill, his Voice unleashing a moment later in a devastating blast.

" _Fus-Ro-Dah_!"

Seeing as Durnehviir was banking down, presumably to grab Ketar with his talons, his head was within just the right range to impact the brunt of Ketar's Unrelenting Force. The effect of this was essentially to flip the dragon end over end into a tumble to the ground. Ketar leapt to his left in a dive-roll as Durnehviir's spiny back nearly skewered his last position, the lizard's massive body rolling to a stop after toppling several dozen gravestones and crushing more than a few of his own undead troops. Snarling and shaking himself off, the dragon surged toward the Dragonborn, Ketar holding his blade out to the side in readiness.

Up close, Durnehviir was even uglier than at first glance.

 _Decaying flesh, four horns, fetid dripping liquid…it will be a mercy to end this creature's life._

Grip tightening around Dragonborn's Fury, Ketar pirouetted to his left in a wide slash that just missed the charging dragon's maw when his long neck curved to get him out of the Breton's range. A forward thrust was dodged and countered with a return lunge, muzzle-first, that hit Ketar in the chest and knocked him off his feet. He recovered with a backward roll and poised himself to dash in another direction, but readied a magical ward instead when he saw the dragon take a breath.

" _Fo-Krah-Diin_!"

The sapphire of his sword glowed as he reinforced his ward, the cold of Durnehviir's breath enveloping the space around him in sub-zero temperatures that cracked gravestones and froze any undead unfortunate enough to be caught in it solid. Ketar's eyes widened in shock and alarm.

 _How—_ what _?!_

Charging forward, Ketar made to thrust his blade through the ward and strike Durnehviir in the mouth, but found himself once again on the defensive when the dragon cut his Shout short and attempted to bite his left arm off. Ketar spun to his right and slashed horizontally with the motion, managing to get his sword-edge into the drake's mouth and drive it into the wyrm's jaw. It undoubtedly hurt, but as he made to pull it back out, Durnehviir's jaw clamped shut, trapping the dragonbone blade in his mouth. A split-second later, Ketar nearly felt his arms dislocate when the dragon snapped its head right, yanking the sword from his grip and tossing it away.

Ketar leapt straight upward when Durnehviir swung his horned head in the other direction, intending to gore him on them, and tucked his knees into his chest, feeling the creature's scales just brush the underside of his boots. Ketar rolled upon hitting the ground, whirling toward Durnehviir on the way up and pulling the Nightingale Bow from his hip. Three ebony arrows were unleashed in quick sequence, nailing the dragon in the neck and right wing before he countered with another drawn breath.

" _Gaan-Lah-Haas_!"

Ketar was more than familiar enough with this Shout not to want to get in its way. " _Wuld_!"

The sound of his Voice carried him out of the path of the incoming energy and into some limited cover, from which he resumed taking shots at Durnehviir, who was again taking to the skies. Ketar quickly drew in another breath.

" _Joor-Zah-Frul_!"

A wave of sapphire energy slammed into Durnehviir, leadening his wings and causing him to thrash about in alarm even as Ketar drew back another ebony arrow as far as it would go. He unleashed it a moment later, nailing Durnehviir in his left eye and causing him to roar and summon more undead to keep the Dragonborn busy. Serana came in out of nowhere to land next to Ketar, a brief brush of her hand over his arm letting him know she was there. Clusters of bonemen and mistmen (floating undead—charming) came from the dregs of the graveyard to assail them. Sera and Ketar exchanged a look before he stowed his bow and drew an ebony knife from his left hip.

When one of the mistmen drew back its empty hand, presumably for some sort of spell, Ketar prepared a spell of his own in his left hand and fired it off, his sapphire ring lighting up as an obliquely-shaped ward formed between him and the undead. The result was a perfect reflection of the mistman's spell, a blast of pure cold that froze its translucent bones and left it vulnerable to a counter-strike, a kinetic bolt that shattered its body. By this time, Serana had her sword out and was cutting down undead by the cluster, weaving and dodging in and out of their ranks with fluid ease, though Ketar could see that the fluidity of her movement was somewhat hampered when the long tip of the ebony blade caught on one of the undead's shoulders.

Nevertheless, Serana kept up her pattern of movement and relieved another wrathman of his head as Ketar came in with his dagger and used it as a lever to pop a boneman's arm off its body. Ketar shin-kicked the back of its knee, forcing it down, and Serana finished it with a horizontal strike that beheaded the creature.

"Watch out!"

Valerica's sudden outcry snapped their attention to a rapidly moving form at their back, Ketar only spotting Durnehviir for a second before he felt himself shoved sideways and out of range of the wyrm's gaping maw. The dragon's jaws snapped shut a moment later, empty, and his head was catapulted into Serana's waiting sword when a dual-casted kinetic bolt from Valerica slammed into its opposite side. A deep stab carved a thin hole into the back of Durnehviir's head as Ketar recovered his footing and whirled back toward the dragon. Serana delivered two more quick slashes to Durnehviir's neck before his right wing's foretalon came out to catch her across the chest, nearly punching a hole through her rib cage and sending her flying off her feet.

"Serana!" Valerica screamed, rushing toward her daughter's side and leaping over Durnehviir to stand between them. "Stay _clear_ of her, beast!"

Durnehviir's reptilian eyes seemed to burn with a deadly fire as he stared Valerica down, Serana moaning and slowly shaking herself off. The dragon surged forward suddenly, snapping at the elder vampire and nearly taking her head off with his first attack. She dug her ebony dagger into the meat of his lower jaw, yanking it down and actually managing to throw his head around a bit. Durnehviir's head swung in the opposite direction, his armored muzzle catching Valerica just above the eyebrow and laying her out on her back. She pushed herself backward rapidly, the drake snarling above her as she tried to regain her footing and charging up for a Shout.

Which was when Ketar leapt from a ruined building onto his back, plunging his Nightingale Blade between his scales upon landing. Durnehviir roared and sprung up onto his hind legs, trying to shake the Dragonborn off but only succeeding in digging the sword in deeper. Using the dragon's back spines as steps, Ketar pulled his sword loose and clambered up his enemy's back, leaping for his head and underhandedly slashing through his neck as he fell to the ground. A deep gash was carved through the wyrm's scales as he hit the ground and rolled to a stop. Ketar immediately collapsed the Blade and stowed it on his hip as his hand snapped out to the side, magicka flowing through the appendage.

He heard the dragon's roar as Durnehviir recovered from his injury, and felt his presence rapidly approach at his back as his spell focused more. Ketar's fingers tightened and tensed as the energy currents around him shifted. The moment he felt something hard slap against his palm, his entire body spun 180 degrees and launched upright as he swung upward. The razor-sharp bite of Dragonborn's Fury slammed into Durnehviir's jaw, sending his head recoiling and entire body listing to one side with a shriek of agony. Seeing Durnehviir's torso exposed, Ketar drew his sword back and put all his power into a powerful thrusting motion, releasing the Fury at just the right moment to launch it into a powerful throw aimed at the dragon's chest.

Dragonborn's Fury flew forth like a black arrow fired from the strongest bow, its glowing sapphire leaving behind a blue streak of energy as it speared toward Durnehviir. The wyrm never stood a chance. The midnight-black blade sank deeply into Durnehviir's chest, directly into his heart, without even so much as slowing down on entry. The dragon roared and thrashed about, then went limp seconds later, dead before he hit the ground. Ketar braced for the inevitable influx of power and euphoria that came with absorbing a dragon soul, a triumphant smile twitching at his lips as Durnehviir's body began to decompose and fade into arcs of purplish fire—distinctly different from the energy that usually came from a slain dragon.

Only it didn't flow into him.

There was no euphoria, no powerful burst of energy, nothing that would indicate the usual absorption. On the contrary, it was as if the dragon had stolen his own soul away—or it already belonged to someone else. Apparently, Valerica was just as shocked at the outcome, but for vastly different reasons.

"Forgive my astonishment…" Valerica strode up alongside Ketar, helping Serana to her feet, "but I never thought I'd witness the death of that dragon."

Ketar pulled back his hood and threw them a cocky grin. "Told you this wasn't my first time."

Valerica frowned deeply. "What I mean is: volumes written on Durnehviir allege that he can't be slain by normal means. It appears they were mistaken." She stopped short. "Unless..."

Serana's head cocked. "What?"

"The soul of a dragon is as resilient as its owner's scaly hide. It's possible that your killing blow merely displaced Durnehviir's physical form while he reconstitutes himself."

Ketar frowned deeply as he recalled his sword to his hand. "That's never happened before. _Ever_. But I guess in a place where souls are used as currency, a few get stolen every once in a while." He looked over at Valerica. "Any idea how long the reconstitution could take?"

"Minutes? Hours? Years? I can't even begin to guess. I suggest we don't wait around to find out." She nodded to the far end of the graveyard. "Now, let's get your Elder Scroll and you can be on your way."

Ketar nodded and reached out to Serana, who took his hand and followed behind Valerica. As they made their way toward a shielded alcove at the far side of the plaza, Serana eyed her mother.

"Mother…you're staying here, aren't you?"

Valerica glanced over at her daughter. "I'm afraid so. As much as it pains me to send you two back to Tamriel alone, I can't take the risk Harkon will find and use me to complete the prophecy. He'll feel my presence as soon as I reenter the world."

Ketar arched an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

She nodded. "Our connection reaches that deeply. I would only place you in more danger. This fight will have to be yours alone."

Serana nodded grimly. "I understand."

They pressed forward, approaching the alcove and an impressive collection of potions, ingredients, and alchemy equipment. A long, metal-plated wooden chest in the center of the setup opened with a wave of Valerica's hand, revealing the final Elder Scroll inside. Serana's mother lifted it from its container, handing it to her daughter, who took it with a ginger touch.

"This is it," Serana said. "The last Scroll."

"And one more thing," Valerica added. "A gift, of sorts."

She reached into another section of the chest and pulled out a precisely folded suit of vampire armor, with the same colors and vest pattern as Serana's outfit but a great deal more additional armor around the arms, shoulders, and legs; like black steel.

Valerica held it up to the faint light. "The armor of a Volkihar Royal Knight—mine, actually. A little heavier than what you're used to, but you should be able to overcome that small variation with little difficulty. I hope it'll help you in…" she frowned a little, "what comes next."

Serana's eyes went wide as she took the armor from her mother, laying it over the Scroll. "I…thank you, Mother." She smiled. "I'll put it to good use." She held her load up to Ketar. "Can you—"

"Of course," he said, taking the Scroll and opening the rift. Upon closing it, Valerica's gobsmacked expression reminded him she'd never seen him use it before. "Long story. Involves my dragon blood."

"…dragon blood?"

Ketar turned to face her. "I'm the Last Dragonborn."

Valerica stared at him. "Right…"

Ketar smirked. "Like I said, long story."

She arched a raven eyebrow. "Yes. Clearly." Valerica slowly turned to Serana, frowning. "Serana…after everything that's happened between us, everything I've done…I would understand if you never wanted to see me again."

Sera blinked and dropped her jaw. "Mother…what I told you before…I _meant_ it. I want us to be a family again."

"But Harkon—"

"Harkon—Father…must be stopped. And he will be."

"I _cannot_ return to Tamriel, Serana. Not unless Harkon is not only stopped, but _killed_."

Serana glanced back at a sympathetically frowning Ketar, then turned back to her mother. "I…I know…"

"You must understand, dear…he's no longer the man I married all that time ago. He's obsessed... _insane_. Everyone around him fears him as they would a rabid dog. For all of this to end, he must die."

She sighed hard and looked away. "I know. It's just…" Her gaze turned back up to Valerica. "I haven't exactly had the millennium you did to come to terms with that."

Valerica's features softened as, for the first time since Ketar had met her, she smiled and gently placed a hand on Serana's cheek. "I know, dearest. And it pains me to know that you will have to face your father without me. My one respite…" her eyes flickered to Ketar, "is that you will not be alone when you do so." She pulled away from Serana to approach the Breton. "I believe I owe you an apology."

Ketar's head tilted slightly, eyebrows furrowing in surprise.

Valerica cocked her head and eyed him curiously. "I misjudged you, Ketar Niel Dov. I think my bitterness against Harkon jaded me against…well, anyone except Serana, to be honest." She gave him a lopsided frown. "Though you will have to tell me exactly how _this_ —" she motioned between them, "—happened someday."

Serana and Ketar both started chuckling, the former reaching out and taking his hand as she replied, "It's a…long story."

Valerica arched an eyebrow. "I'll _bet_ it is." Her arms crossed. "Serana is the only thing of value I have left in the world. You take care of my daughter, Dov." Her eyes narrowed. "Or Harkon or no Harkon, I'll be coming for you."

Ketar arched an amused eyebrow. "Good to know." He grinned and turned to Serana, nodding toward the exit. "Shall we?"

Sera nodded slowly, looking back to her mother. "We _will_ see each other again. I promise."

Valerica smiled warmly, looking close to tears for such a normally stoic person. "Thank you." She looked between them. "Both of you."

Ketar nodded firmly, gripping Serana's hand a little tighter and drawing her toward the exit. He noticed tension in Serana's body almost immediately. "You okay?"

She glanced up at him. "Yeah. I just…I'm glad we found the Scroll, but…I wish she could come with us."

He shrugged. "We could certainly use the backup, but she's right about Harkon. If pure vampire blood is anywhere as strong as Valerica said, he probably would be able to use her to track us—which would be _bad_."

"Yeah. I just…it's been so long, you know? And we only got to spend, what, fifteen minutes together? And half of that spent in battle?"

Ketar's lips pursed. "I know." He rubbed a hand over her arm. "We're gonna fix this, Sera. I promise."

She smiled and leaned into his side, gently nuzzling his shoulder as they exited the castle. They remained silent the whole way out—until something on one of the pedestals caught their attention. Specifically, violet, necromantic flames—the same ones that had consumed Durnehviir upon death. Sure enough, the undead dragon himself appeared moments later, facing down both of them and causing Ketar to reach for his Fury in the blink of an eye.

"Stay your weapons!" shouted a deep, booming voice as Durnehviir spoke non-aggressively for the first time. "I would speak with you, _Qahnaarin_."

Ketar exchanged a glance with Serana, then slowly released the hilt of his sword. " _Qahnaarin_ —impressive title. And not one easily earned, I'd guess."

The decaying _dovah_ gave Ketar a rough approximation of a smile. "You are correct."

"What I'm wondering is why we're speaking…and not _Speaking_ …if you get my drift."

"I believe in civility among seasoned warriors, and I find your ear worthy of my words. My claws have rent flesh from innumerable foes, but I have never once been felled on the field of battle. I therefore honor-name you ' _Qahnaarin_.'"

Serana slowly turned to Ketar. " _Qahnaarin_?" she sounded out hesitantly.

Ketar nodded. "Vanquisher, in the dragon tongue."

"And in this case, a title given to a _dovah_ who vanquishes another in battle."

Ketar smiled and bowed his head slightly. "I found you equally worthy." His eyes narrowed. "Though your…aggression toward Serana has put a sour taste in my mouth."

Durnehviir frowned. "Forgive me, _Qahnaarin_. The girl was not my intended target."

Serana stepped forward, empty fist clenched. "You aimed for my mother?"

Durnehviir's eyes widened. "Valerica was—" he sighed, "—I see. I apologize, but my hostility was necessary. I was bound to an oath."

"What oath?" she hissed.

"For countless years I've roamed the Soul Cairn, in unintended service to the Ideal Masters. There was a time when I called Tamriel my home, but those days have long since passed. The _dovah_ roamed the skies, vying for their small slices of territory that resulted in immense and ultimately fatal battles. I also partook, but unlike some of my brethren, I sought solutions outside the norm in order to maintain my superiority. I began to explore what the _dovah_ call ' _Alok-Dilon_ ,' the ancient forbidden art that you call necromancy."

Serana's features shifted in understanding. "So you struck a bargain with the Ideal Masters…and they tricked you same as my mother."

Durnehviir nodded gravely. "The Ideal Masters assured me that my powers would be unmatched, that I could raise legions of the undead. In return, I was to serve them as a Keeper until the death of the one who calls herself Valerica."

"And," said Ketar, "in a classic show of manipulation, they neglected to tell you she was immortal."

He nodded once more. "I discovered too late that the Ideal Masters favor deception over honor and had no intention of releasing me from my binding. They had control of my mind, but fortunately they couldn't possess my soul."

"Which is why we're speaking at all."

Durnehviir smiled. "You bear the intelligence of your title, _Qahnaarin_. However, I've been here too long already. The Soul Cairn has become a part of what I am. I can never fully call Tamriel my home again, or I would surely perish."

"Then what do you want from us?"

"No, not 'us.' You."

Ketar frowned. "I don't understand. _She's_ the necromancer."

"But _you_ are Dovahkiin, are you not? Your voice overpowered mine, so perhaps…it may be able to overpower the chains of this place."

"How do you mean?"

"Before this enslavement, I roamed the skies above Tamriel. I desire to return there. If I ventured far from the Soul Cairn, my strength would begin to wane until I was no more. However, if you were to call my name from Tamriel, I might be summoned to the physical realm once more. Do me this simple honor and I will fight at your side as your _Grah-Zeymahzin_ , your Ally, and teach you my _Thu'um_."

Serana eyed him with suspicion. "And what reason do we have to trust you? _Especially_ if the Ideal Masters have control of your mind?"

Durnehviir bowed his head slightly. "None, I suppose. But having my physical form perish, for however brief a period, loosened even _that_ yoke somewhat."

Ketar exchanged a long look with Serana, who shrugged in resignation, then turned back to the dragon. "Teach me your name, dragon, and I may test your loyalty in the future. However, know that if you betray me in any way—" his hand went to the sapphire-adorned hilt of the Fury, "—you will feel the bite of my blade once again, and never again taste the free air of Tamriel."

The dragon bowed deeply. " _Zu mindoraan,_ Dovahkiin. Simply call my name when you believe the time is right."

Ketar's hand left his sword as he escorted Serana down the steps and Durnehviir took to the skies of the Soul Cairn. "We shall see."

…

The pair exited the portal to the Soul Cairn without further incident. Whether that was because the Ideal Masters couldn't recover from the destruction of their Keepers fast enough or Durnehviir was actively sabotaging their efforts to stop them, Ketar couldn't tell. Honestly, knowing the pride of dragons, the latter was every bit as likely as the former. Either way, to once again breathe the air of Tamriel, even that of Valerica's dusty old lab, was a welcome relief from the never-ending gray monotony of the Soul Cairn. So much so that he actually breathed a massive sigh of relief, especially as he pulled Nocturnal's Embrace from his chest and stowed it in his back pouch.

"Let's…not go in there again," Ketar said. "Not until…"

Serana looked at him. "Until Mother can come home."

He nodded.

She frowned and closed her eyes with a sigh. "Okay." Her eyes snapped open and met Ketar's. "Then let's find that Ancestor Glade and finish this."

Ketar nodded and turned toward a door at the opposite end of the lab to the one they'd entered through. He pulled it open seconds later, permitting them onto a balcony overlooked by the rising sun. Ketar came to a stop and closed his eyes, lips twitching with a smile as he let the sun's gentle heat play over his face and warm his skin. He hadn't even _felt_ just how cold he was until he felt warmth begin to seep back into his body. His dark blue eyes snapped open, turning to Serana as she pulled her black hood up over her features. Ketar leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her lips—then took advantage of her brief distraction to leap off the side of the balcony with his arms around her.

" _Feim-Zii-Gron_!"

The extended duration of their ethereal form allowed them to hit the ground without injury. Didn't stop Serana from griping the whole way down, though.

…

Unbeknownst to her daughter and the hu—Ketar—Valerica had followed the couple out of the castle and overheard their conversation with the dragon Keeper. Speaking of whom, Valerica was sure Durnehviir spotted her as he was flying away. Yet, despite the shackles placed on him because of her continued existence, he did nothing.

 _To think one battle with the Dragonborn was enough to gain the respect of that monster…_ Valerica smirked. _Perhaps he_ could _be worthy of my daughter after all._

With the relief of not having that accursed dragon pursuing her, the ancient vampire used the brief lull to explore the Soul Cairn, traveling across the same road the others had at a lazy pace. Along the way, she found what looked like a deformed horse skull at the base of the same pedestal Durnehviir had mounted during his conversation and picked it up in amusement. The frantic shouts of a nearby soul drew her attention, prompting her to curiously stride off the path.

"Arvak! _Arvak_!"

Valerica cautiously approached a male soul in full armor. "Who is this Arvak?"

The soul stopped short and whirled to face her, a pleading look in his eyes. "Arvak, my horse…we came to this horrible place together. We were attacked by monsters, so I told him to run. And now, he's lost, somewhere, still running." He reached out to grip her hands earnestly. "Please, find my beloved mount."

Valerica arched an eyebrow. "Don't you mean 'what's left of him'?" She held out the skull she'd found earlier, and the spirit's reaction was immediate.

"You—you found him. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, _thank you_." The soul gripped Arvak's skull a bit tighter, the bones vanishing in a flash of dust. "Please, take care of him. Such a good horse…"

Valerica stared at the rapidly fading soul quizzically, then felt a familiar surge of necromantic energy behind her as out of nowhere, a skeletal horse engulfed in violet flames materialized and trotted up next to her. Against her will, the unfamiliar pull of a smile tugged at her lips as she reached out and brushed its flaming mane, not feeling any pain or heat but a strange fluid sensation across her fingertips. She gingerly mounted the beast's back, leaning down to pet its skeletal neck as she guided it back toward her sanctuary. An unnatural, likely loneliness-driven fondness for this creature filled her the further she went.

It was suddenly as if the arrival of her daughter and that...man had unleashed a part of her she'd kept locked away for so long. For the first time in over a thousand years, she felt warmth engulf her as she rode into her uncertain future.

…

The moment their boat touched down on the far side of Volkihar Island's bay, Serana had to wonder exactly what Ketar's plan was for getting to the Ancestor Glade Dexion had told them about. She thought back to his words before their infiltration of the castle.

 _"He knows my call."_

Evidently, he knew exactly what was on her mind, because Ketar threw her a cocky grin and said, "Watch this," before turning to the sky and Shouting, " _Strun'kren_!"

Ketar's voice echoed and carried across the shore, all the way to the mountains. Much to her astonishment, Stormbreaker's neighs could be heard within seconds, and he appeared within double that time. Ketar couldn't help but break out into laughter at Serana's gaping expression.

"Told you," he chuckled, "he knows my call."

"What does that even _mean_?" she asked as he helped her mount the horse.

"Simple. When I gave him his name, I did it in both common and dragon tongue."

" _Strun'kren_...Stormbreaker. _Oh_."

"Yup."

Serana leaned forward in the saddle and nuzzles his shoulder with a small grumble. "Showoff."

He grinned back at her, planting a surprise kiss on her lips. "Would you want me any other way?"

"Nope," she answered without hesitation. "So you better not lose that grin anytime soon."

Ketar laughed. "With you here to stroke my ego? Never."

He slapped Stormbreaker's reins sharply, and a moment later, they were off.

…

"This must be the place." Serana snorted derisively at the craggy cave facing them as they dismounted Stormbreaker. "Not very impressive, is it?" She looked over at Ketar. "If this ends up being a wasted trip, your friend Dexion and I are going to have some words."

Ketar smirked. "Oh, you of little faith. Ever heard of the phrase, 'don't judge a book by its cover'?"

Serana shot Ketar a dirty look. "We just went through hell and back for that last Scroll, Ketar. There damn well better be something worthwhile at the end of this road, or so help me—"

He stopped her with his hands up in surrender. "Okay, point taken. Now stop griping and come on."

He waved her toward the cave entrance, whistling to motion Stormbreaker off and proceeding into an overgrown cavern with sunlight streaming in through an open ceiling. On either side of the entry path, there were raised rock platforms, worn down by time and rainfall, with various half-dead trees scattered about along with vines and other uncontrolled growth. Exchanging a brief look with Serana, Ketar leapt up a fallen log and used it to climb up to one of these platforms, spotting a passage deeper into the cave with more light at the end. Upon reaching the other side, the amount of sunlight hitting them was almost blinding to Serana, at least he thought so by the way she put both hands in front of her hooded face to block it out.

Once her overly sensitive eyes adjusted to the light, she saw the rest of the "glade," and like Ketar, gaped at the vista before them. Below, after a descending staircase hewn into the rock, was a massive courtyard with a stone altar, hot springs, and various structures that looked religious in nature. Evergreen and flowering Canticle trees were strewn about the place, along with the desired Ancestor Moths, giving it an ancient, untouched feeling that made Ketar wary of crushing a single fallen branch.

"Wow," Serana exhaled. " _Look_ at this place." She strode forward, spinning around in awe. "I doubt anyone's been here in centuries."

"And _I_ doubt there's any other place like it in Skyrim," he said. "It's _beautiful_."

Serana nodded slowly in agreement, smirking. "Even if the sunroof _is_ a little over-the-top."

Ketar shot her a deadpan look. "Stop griping."

"But I like griping."

"Since _when_?"

"Since I've had someone to gripe _at_."

"Somehow that doesn't seem fair to me." Ketar sighed hard. "Anyway, let's find that knife." He frowned. "This place is peaceful, to be sure, but…"

Serana looked back at him. "What?"

His head shook as they began to descend the staircase. "I don't know. I just have a bad feeling."

The pair proceeded toward the stone altar in the center of the courtyard, Ketar reaching into a chest-high structure looking very much like the eye of a needle to retrieve a double-handled knife.

"That must be the draw knife Dexion mentioned," Sera pointed out.

He nodded. "Now to find that bark."

Ketar jogged toward one of the budding trees and gingerly took the knife in both hands, drawing it across the outer skin of the wooden trunk several times before getting any results. When he did, a single, long strip of bark fell into his grasp, and he held it up to his vampire companion.

"Hope those moths like that bark as much as Dexion said they would. Dexion didn't really give us a lot to go on, did he?"

"He gave me enough," Ketar replied. "Just need to get a good cluster of them. Hopefully it's like catnip is to cats."

Serana smirked deviously. "Or I am to you."

Ketar huffed a derisive laugh as he started looking around for movement. "Oh please. It's more like _you_ can't keep your hands off _me_."

"Speaking of which, once we're done here, we are _so_ setting up camp—somewhere less likely to get attacked by assassins this time, please."

"Oh of _course_ ," he replied, approaching a decently-sized group of Ancestor Moths. "I can usually go for two _weeks_ without sleep, but after that little adventure in the Soul Cairn, I feel like I haven't slept in a _month_. And _that_ gets hazardous."

The moment Ketar drew near enough to the moths, they practically started swarming around him like flies on a rotten corpse, and Serana let out a small gasp.

He whirled toward her. "What?"

She looked him up and down for a moment. "Well, they've definitely taken a liking to you. And unless I'm seeing things, you're starting to...glimmer."

He arched an eyebrow, then turned about, spotting another group of moths. "Then let's get some more."

So he did, and within minutes, the air around Ketar's body was thick with the flying creatures. The tiny air currents created by their wingbeats had grown so strong, Ketar could actually feel a small chill starting to seep through his Guildmaster armor—and even _he_ could see the light around him, a glowing sphere of pure gold.

"Whoa," Serana breathed. "I think that might have been what we were waiting for. Let's head back to that altar and see if we can read the scrolls."

Ketar nodded and leapt from his perch atop one of the surrounding cliffs, sliding on the moss-covered rock below to jump from the bottom onto one of the stone structures around the altar. He hopped from one to the next, finishing his traversal with a perfectly-executed twist-flip that the moths actually mimicked in a whirling pattern around him. Serana was just grinning and shaking her head at the performance, periodically shifting her gaze to the insects around him as he approached a beam of light in the center of the room. Ketar stepped into its center, feeling the very air around him charge with magical energy, and turned to Serana.

She bit her lower lip slightly. "Nervous?"

His lips twitched in a brief smile. "A little. Last time I did this was…"

"Yeah, I know." She reached out and took his hand. "But you weren't alone then. And you're not alone now."

Ketar smiled wider and nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Sera." He took a deep breath and turned toward the altar. "Here we go."

Both hands stretched out in front of him, linked together and pulling apart in opposite directions as the rift opened before him. Suddenly, the golden arcs of the sundial-like magical construct began to curl and shift, melding with the glowing sphere around him and forming a cocoon-like structure. Ketar glanced at it for a moment in wariness before pressing on and retrieving the three Elder Scrolls from the rift, one by one until they were all arrayed in front of him, side-by-side. His hands rose to keep them suspended midair, fingers splaying outward and unsheathing the contents of the Scrolls all at once.

Ketar's dark blue eyes scanned over the leftmost one first, the Blood Scroll, feeling a bright flash engulf his gaze with brief visions of death and pain before leaving an imprint and moving on. The center scroll, the Dragon Scroll, showed him glimpses of the ancient Nords and dragons, of their war, and even Ketar's own battle against Alduin in the present. Another imprint was overlaid over the first, prompting him to move onto the final Scroll: Sun. This one was the brightest of all, like staring into the eyes of a god, and indeed, for a moment, Ketar could've sworn he saw Akatosh himself once again staring back at him. Then the imprint was complete, and before him was a map of all of Skyrim, with a single location in the Reach highlighted.

Then a sharp screech sounded in the back of his head, causing him to wince. A few rapid blinks later, the visions and the glows were gone—as were the Scrolls. He rapidly turned and looked about, gaze landing on Serana, who was cautiously rising from behind the altar, where she'd apparently been hiding.

"Sera? What—what happened?"

She eyed him warily, carefully approaching him and reaching out to place a hand on his neck. "You tell _me_. That sphere—structure, whatever—it was glowing so brightly that I actually had to pull away for a while, like I was standing directly in front of the sun. Then you went white as snow and…it all receded into the rift. The Scrolls, the sphere, everything. Even the moths disappeared."

Ketar frowned deeply. "I'm not even gonna _begin_ to try and interpret what the hell that means."

"But are you okay?"

He smiled a little shakily. "Yeah. Fine. Just a little dizzy, I think."

Serana sighed. "Good."

"And I have more good news." He grinned and pulled out a map, pointing to a particular intersection of crags in the Jerall Mountains. "I found Auriel's Bow."

Serana smiled and closed her eyes with an audible breath of relief. "Yes…finally." Her gaze snapped to him intently. "We're almost there, Kay." Her grin turned a little devious. "Just need to make a little stop along the way, yeah?"

Ketar coughed and cleared his throat, already starting to burn up. "Uh, sure…I mean—"

"There they are!"

Both snapped toward the entrance above, where a half-dozen vampires and their death hound pets began pouring into the room.

"Seize the blood traitor!"

Snarling, Ketar drew Zephyr from the back of his belt and started unleashing one arrow after the next on the encroaching undead. Whether due to the bow's added power or the inferiority of his targets, Ketar's arrows struck true more often than not, even at that distance. The death hounds, though nimble, were no match for the combined firepower of Zephyr and Serana's ice spikes, and didn't even reach the halfway mark before being cut down by ebony or magic. As for the vampires themselves, they were smart enough not to leave their heads or hearts too exposed, but most were at least injured by the time they reached the altar, and thus slower. After braving the Soul Cairn, dispatching of what remained proved to be little more than child's play.

Four vampires made the mistake of getting in close, the first of which got a kinetic bolt to the face, and an ebony arrow for good measure. He dusted right as Ketar caught the second one's first strike in the groove between Zephyr's hilt and upper arm. Ketar countered with a hard right hook and followed with a thrust-kick to the vampire's gut while Serana used her dagger to deflect a blow aimed at his back and divert the attacker away from her lover. Ketar spun clockwise around a thrust and drove the side of his bow into the vampire's head, then used its metal body to grab her neck and pull up and to the side. A pronounced _snap_ was heard a moment before the telltale hiss of a dusting reached his ears from Serana's direction.

Ketar didn't have time to check on her, as the two vampires who stayed behind brandished bows and started taking potshots at them. Twirling Zephyr, he managed to deflect a few of their arrows, then drive the arm of his bow into the side of the fourth vampire's knee. He followed up with a leaping 360 roundhouse to the exposed joint. The vampire screamed as he collapsed to ground, an arrow spearing his heart a split-second before it was yanked from his ashes and used to target the archers up above. His shot landed right as the target released a missile from his own bow, the ebony arrow nailing him in the heart as Ketar ducked to the side and let the incoming arrow clink against the stones at his back.

Checking back to see Serana twisting around and grappling the last one on the ground, Ketar collapsed Zephyr and started sprinting for the rocky cliffs, zigzagging around the incoming arrows with practiced ease. When he finally reached the cliffside, he leapt onto its side, fingers wrapping around stony outcroppings that lent themselves to rapid climbing. The vampire archer above him tried to use his vulnerable position to skewer him, but failed to anticipate just how fast of a climber he was, because by the time the arrow loosed, Ketar had already grabbed his bow and yanked it down.

The sudden motion not only threw his shot off, but pulled him off the cliff into a forty-foot drop. And, evidently, Serana's sword planted tip-up on the ground. The ebony blade impaled him through the heart like an upright stake, the vampire dusting and falling apart the moment he slid all the way down to its finger-guard. Ketar exchanged a grateful nod with Serana, pulling his hood up and waiting for her to join him at the top of the cliff.

He looked back to her. "We need to go. No telling how many more are coming."

Serana nodded and ran toward the exit, Ketar close behind. As soon as they hit the open air, the frenzied neighs of Stormbreaker were heard from the side as the black horse galloped toward them, sliding to a stop with an agitated whinny.

Ketar placed a hand on his neck and gently stroked his mane. "Easy, boy. What's wrong?"

Serana's jaw tightened on his right. "That."

Ketar turned to see what she was talking about, seeing a cluster of vampires exiting a far clearing with weapons drawn. He glanced at Sera. "Get on," he said, mounting Stormbreaker.

She frowned and looked up at him. "No, you go."

Ketar stared at her.

"Stormbreaker won't be able to outrun them, not with both of us on his back."

"Sera, what did I say about fighting alo—"

"We won't be fighting alone, running alone. If we split them up, they won't be able to chase us as effectively."

"And if they catch one of us—"

"They _won't_ ," she insisted, gripping his hand tightly. Serana smirked. "Not even _you_ could, remember?"

Ketar gave her a deadpan look before going dead serious, lips pursed tightly. "Be careful, Sera."

She gave his hand one more squeeze before turning and splitting in the opposite direction as him, forcing the pursuing vampires to divide their forces. A few well-placed backward shots with Zephyr were enough to discourage any further pursuit, but once alone, Ketar only had his thoughts and worries to keep him company. His gloved left hand came up to his collarbone and tightly clutched the amulet of Akatosh as he sent up a silent prayer for Serana.

…

A good ten to fifteen minutes were spent running non-stop before Serana was sure she'd lost her pursuers. By then, she was traversing some rough terrain, mentally noting and keeping track of the location of Auriel's Bow with relation to her current position. As a vampire, she had an innate and impeccable sense of direction, even in the daytime, but as night began to fall around her, that internal compass only increased in strength. As did the rest of her senses, including her hearing. So, when the grind and strain of a bowstring was heard from her back, she spun around just in time to prevent a steel-tipped bolt from spearing her in the shoulder, the missile caught in her right hand's grip.

The shooter was unseen, hiding in the sparse foliage scattered about the otherwise barren landscape, but with Serana focusing her senses on the source of the bolt, it was only a matter of time before—

 _Twang!_

Faster than even she could turn around, a hard impact speared into the back of her left shoulder, and another just below her right knee soon after. Screams were torn from her throat as she collapsed to one knee, two more bolts coming at her from different directions. She ducked under one and managed to swipe the other away, alarm ringing through her blood as she spotted several shadowy figures charging toward her with leather cables. Her dagger cleared its sheath as they got within striking distance, slashing wildly as the pain made her reckless and feeling another bolt pierce the forearm of her knife arm.

The Elven dagger hit the ground a moment later, the first whips coiling around her arms, then legs and midsection as no less than five figures yanked her back into a large, round stone. She struggled against them every step of the way, but all together, they easily managed to overpower her injured body. A second and third glance at them revealed the unexpected: her captors weren't Dawnguard, but vampires. And as they secured the cords to the rock, she recognized one vampire in particular emerging from behind the rest.

Serana snarled. "Vingalmo."

"Don't look so surprised, Serana," he drawled, approaching her with his hands clasped behind his back. "We both knew we'd be seeing each other again." He smirked. "After all, it's destiny."

Serana bared her fangs and lunged forward only to be yanked back by the cables. "If it's destiny, why have me tied down?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes, we don't know what's best for us, and as such must rely on the kindness of others to guide our path."

"I know my path very well, thank you."

"With some human swine? As I believe I said before, I think all your time in that tomb dulled your good sense." He shook his head mournfully. "It's a wonder you're not already feral. Tell me, dearest, when was the last time you fed?"

Serana smirked. "Last night. And it was _far_ better than anything _you_ could ever offer me."

At her gloating tone, Vingalmo's face went stony. Slowly, he turned his head to face his lackeys and nodded slightly. "Well, in that case, I suppose I'll have to delay my kindness. In time, you'll see the truth. Just wait."

Serana's eyes widened when she saw Vingalmo's vampires brandish knives. "What truth? What are you doing?"

"The truth is that no one will ever care for you as I do—" he gripped her chin firmly, face inches from hers, "—because no one will ever understand you as I do."

"You're—wrong," she grunted out, eyes darting from side to side as each of the vampires took a knife in one hand and a large flask in the other. A cold feeling filled her veins as realization struck. "You wouldn't _dare_."

Vingalmo's eyes flashed with madness.

Serana scowled. "You do this, and my father will hunt you to the ends of Tamriel."

He laughed. "If your father cared about you at all, he'd have come for you himself." Vingalmo got up in her face again, stroking a taloned finger over her cheek. "And by the time he realizes what I've done…" he pressed his lips to her cheek softly, "it'll be too late. For him and the rest of his outdated brood. And then, the question you'll have to ask yourself is, who will you stand with? The finite mortals who fear and scorn you? Or the immortal ranks of nobility you were born to be one of?"

Serana's teeth clenched as he gripped her hair painfully and began dragging her head to one side. "Don't do this," she hissed.

"Now I'll have to apologize—"

"Vingalmo, _don't_!" Serana's eyes widened in horror as he grinned at her with a perverse glee.

"—this may sting a little."

The Altmer vampire bared his fangs as his jaw widened completely, letting out a feral snarl a split-second before he viciously sank his teeth into her neck and his followers slashed open her wrists. For all her pain, Serana didn't cry out once, didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but all the same couldn't stop a steady stream of tears from leaving her along with her blood. All she could do was close her eyes, grit her teeth against the pain, and wait.

* * *

AN: Sorry for the long wait on this chapter. Life continues to hammer me down again and again, and because of how this chapter ended, I didn't want to release any more until I had the next one at least partially done. But I think I've made you all wait long enough, so here's some more. I'll try to get more done soon, especially because as I've said in the past, I hate cliffhangers, so look for more in the immediate future.

 _Oya vode._

Drake out.

Musical Inspirations:

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - One They Fear: battle with Durnehviir/aftermath


	15. Touching the Sky, Part I

Of all the thoughts running through his head after arriving at the entrance to Darkfall Cave, one quickly rose to a place of prevalence.

 _She should've been here by now_.

It was all Ketar could do not to pace a hole into the ground, but seeing as how it was night—and cold—he was able to distract himself, at least for a time, with preparing a campfire around the corner from an underground waterfall just inside the cave. When that was done, though, there was little else to do except feed Stormbreaker, and that got old _fast_. Worry quickly became an endless barrage of mental scenarios and doubts and self-accusation. And like before, one particular thought quickly rose to the fore.

 _I should never have left her behind._

It wasn't until the crack of dawn that there was any other sign of life. And that introduced a whole new list of complications.

…

It was the second time in as many weeks that she'd felt the full force of Skyrim's cold, and she had to say, she was beginning to fully appreciate how miserable Ketar could be on long trips out in the open. Especially on foot. With holes in her clothing. A shiver passed through her body as she pulled her tattered hood closer around her face, trying to block out the numbness quickly setting in. Though if she were being perfectly honest, she'd felt mostly numb since waking up under a thin sheet of snow.

The last thing Serana remembered before passing out was shrieking hoarsely as she pulled the last steel bolt from her body. She'd been initially shocked at the lack of blood that poured from her wounds before remembering exactly why that was the case. Getting up had been the hardest thing, but as soon as she'd gotten moving, it was easy enough to keep up a slow but steady pace. Thankfully, no bandits or wildlife had even come near her at any point in the night, so much so that her half-delirious brain began to doubt she was still on Nirn. That thought was finally dismissed as soon as she spotted a familiar hooded figure off in the distance.

…

He thought his eyes were deceiving him at first, so out of his mind with worry was he. But no, the early dawn sunlight streaming through the clouds allowed him to see clearly for the first time in the last eight hours. Well, relatively so. He didn't see the gaping holes in her armor until he'd run halfway to meet her. And then, well…

" _Sera_!"

The moment he was within arm's reach, Serana collapsed into his arms. Ketar stared down at her for a moment before bodily lifting her up and carrying her back toward his makeshift camp. It might've been his mind playing tricks on him, but it appeared that her light form was even lighter than usual, seeing as how he could practically run with little encumbrance. He didn't rest for a moment, not as he laid her down next to the campfire, feeling an unusual chill to her skin and throwing a cluster of assorted blankets over her mildly shivering form.

"Kay—"

"Don't speak," he ordered tersely, spreading the blankets to cover as much as possible.

Ketar stripped off his outer jacket, leaving only a thin tunic on his chest to maximize the amount of heat he radiated, then got under the covers with her, arms around her shoulders. He was silent a while, alone with his thoughts and guilt for minutes on end before she finally snapped him out of it.

"Stop it."

He blinked and looked down at her. "What?"

Serana frowned and met his eyes. "I know what you're doing, Ketar. You always do this when I get hurt, when anyone around you gets hurt."

Ketar's jaw tightened as he looked away, unable to keep eye contact with her. He gulped slowly, hesitant to even ask, but he had to know, "What happened?"

Serana eyed him carefully as he drew back the sleeve of his tunic, exposing his wrist. "Vingalmo happened."

Ketar immediately tensed.

"I thought it was the Dawnguard at first, because they used crossbows, but…they must've taken the weapons off the fallen."

"They?"

"Vingalmo and his followers." Serana snuggled closer into his embrace, getting into a better position to feed. "They…" she frowned and gulped, "they took my blood."

He stared at her. "Why? Because of the—"

"The power, yeah. Vingalmo has always been power hungry. Gaining the abilities of a pureblood would definitely serve to advance his ambitions, but it would also put him at odds with my father."

Ketar's head shook slowly. "Then why take the risk of him finding out?"

She snorted. "Because he either believes we'll succeed in killing Harkon, or he's foolish enough to think _he_ can. Either way, he's probably not the only one who turned." She gently sank her fangs into his wrist, beginning to draw from his artery.

"What do you mean, not the only one?"

She gently detached from his arm. "Well, he had other vampires with him. And definitely drew a lot more blood than he needed for himself."

Ketar's eyes widened. "How much?"

Serana coughed and let out a small hiss of pain as she began to regenerate. "Enough to create a small army of vampire lords. Maybe a half dozen at most."

A deep, blood-freezing chill went through his veins as that statement filtered through his consciousness and Serana returned to feeding. He honestly couldn't blame her, considering what she said about having her blood taken—

A sudden horror struck his features as he slowly turned to look down at her. "Serana…you said that among vampires, the giving of blood is…intimate."

She tensed in his arms.

"So…does that mean… _taking_ it…is like—"

"Yeah," she interrupted softly, eyes averted, voice barely above a whisper.

…

The cave was dead silent for almost a full minute before Serana found herself released from his grasp and almost dumped on the nearby bedroll as Ketar grabbed his armor and Dragonborn's Fury, the same seen burning in his eyes as he stormed toward the cave's exit.

"Ketar, wait!"

"I'm gonna _kill_ him! I'll kill them _all_!"

Serana had to bodily stand in his way and push him back to stop him from leaving the cave. "Ketar, _no_."

His eyes flashed with fire.

"This is not our fight."

"The _hell_ it isn't!"

"No!" she yelled. "Vingalmo is a bastard, and he deserves every bit of rage you have, but he is _not_ our fight, _not_ today!"

Ketar tried to lunge forward, but apparently she'd recovered enough of her strength to match him, because he didn't budge an inch.

"If we don't find the bow and stop Harkon, it won't matter _what_ he does. My father will wipe out or turn all of Skyrim as an example, then move onto conquering the rest of Tamriel."

Ketar looked away, still scowling but no longer trying to push forward.

"Vingalmo will get his, but pure blood or no, it'll take him and his lackeys time to get a handle on their new powers. That gives us time to stop my father and prepare for the idiotic move they will inevitably make."

He stood there fuming, hands clenched into fists even as she reached out with her own and gently began uncurling his fingers.

"You're tired; I'm exhausted. So please—" she laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes, "—please just stay here with me…and rest."

Serana heard his racing heart and lungs work overtime as he tried to either push forward or calm himself. Her arms looped around his midsection tightly as she held him, feeling the lightheadedness from before quickly returning the longer she remained standing. Finally, his arms went around her shoulders as he relented and let out a long, shuddering sigh. He let her lead him back to the campfire, and they sat down at the fire's edge, side-by-side as they watched the flickering flames. Serana didn't know how long it took for him to finally fall asleep, but when he did, the sunlight streaming in was noticeably brighter. She had a small laugh at that, especially when she felt her own eyelids begin to droop.

…

It was some time later, about sunset, she'd guess, before Serana woke up, and when she did, she had to restrain outright laughter. Sometime during their long nap, Ketar had shifted in his sleep so that his head was using her chest like a pillow. His mouth was open, and he wasn't quite snoring, but his breathing was still deep and audible and it was so _cute_. Serana bit her lower lip to restrain her laughter, eyes still crinkling in mirth as she gazed down at him, feeling warmth spread throughout her chest that had nothing to do with his body snuggled up against hers. It took her a while to realize that his arms were curled around her midriff, looping over each other, but she only noticed it because his grip tightened and tensed quite suddenly.

As did the rest of his body.

Serana's eyes widened in alarm and she drew in a sharp breath as he began breathing heavily, his face twisting in pain and desperation as he began whimpering in his sleep. Her heart ached as she gently pulled him closer, willing him to calm down until she realized this nightmare was only going to get worse. Unless…

She glanced down at him uncertainly. _I can't…but he_ needs _to rest. Maybe I could just—_

He cried out in her arms, an outright wail of despair that _instantly_ made her mind up.

Serana leaned her head down, pressing her cheek and the side of her forehead against the edge of his hair, her lips close to his ear. Her sunset-colored eyes slowly drifted shut as she focused on the power within, one she'd never even _considered_ using on him, and opened her mind to his. Slowly, steadily, she felt his anguish and fear, distantly at first, then more sharply as their mental connection deepened slightly, his blood running through her veins and giving her an easier time. As the minutes dragged on one to the next, she felt more and more of his volatile emotions start to stabilize, but he still felt…disturbed. He needed more than just a calming force. He needed something else. Something…sweet. Hesitantly, Serana gulped and licked her lips, then took a long breath and drew on a memory from a long, long time ago.

" _Nirn below, sky above;  
All she has in the world._"

Serana licked her lips as she remembered the words, so long ago sung by her mother.

" _For all the gifts of life unfurled  
Fade to ash in the absence of love._"

She drew in a long breath, voice gaining more confidence, but remaining soft, like a summer breeze through the trees.

" _For too long sole, too long alone  
She walks through life with heart of stone.  
Touched by fire, clothed in ash  
For actions taken young and rash._

" _Over the slopes of the Jerall,  
Almost wishing she would fall,  
She hopes and aches for something more;  
A final hope before the morn._"

She opened her eyes and looked down at him as her mind recalled the words of the next stanza. A brief flicker of mirth flashed through her eyes at the irony before she continued.

" _And even as she falls to Nirn,  
To level ground and no return,  
The unforgiving stones relent  
And in his arms she finds respite._"

Sera felt his grip around her relax, his body begin to sag in her arms.

" _And when she wakes after the sun,  
Her soul is warmed; her heart is won.  
For in the morning light she sees  
Dear Mara's gift, a calming breeze._"

Even as his breathing deepened and body relaxed, her grip around him drew tighter, a protective surge prompting the action as she finished the final stanza.

" _For the aching in her heart has stopped,  
Cooled to a warm and longing burn.  
In his eyes she sees the stars,  
And in his heart she sees her world._"

Serana stayed there for some time after, fingers weaving and stroking Ketar's soft black hair as she gently nuzzled the side of his head. Finally, she drew back and saw him once again sleeping peacefully, feeling an almost painful warmth envelop her as she gazed down at his slumbering form. Serana's eyes slid shut as she cradled his head to her bosom, head tucked under her chin as she held him close, drifting off with an overwhelming sense of peace.

…

When he finally woke, Ketar felt extremely rested, but also more than a bit disoriented. Like his head was being rapidly shaken from side to side. As confirmed when he managed to open his eyes, it wasn't, but what greeted him on the other end was almost as bad. Well, sort of. Embarrassing, certainly, and a bit disorienting. He could only hope she hadn't woken before him, because laying his head on her upper…assets was a bit more compromising and mortifying than he could handle right now. Especially considering what had happened…

Ketar quickly turned his mind to other things as he started to detangle himself from her and look around their camp. The fire had long died down to embers, only giving him sparse light to work with, as the sun had apparently fallen behind the horizon while they slept. The only upside to this that he could think of was that Serana would only be stronger at night. If she was strong enough to move, that was. A low, sultry hum came from his side, and he turned to see Serana beginning to stir. Her eyes flickered open a moment later, immediately locking onto his and holding his gaze as he stood transfixed for several seconds.

Her lips quirked upward as she stretched out, arching her back slightly. "Morning, handsome." She glanced toward the cave's exit and chuckled. "Or evening, I guess." Sera let out a long breath as she stood up and dusted herself off. "Sleep well?"

Ketar frowned a bit in thought, trying to remember…something. He knew he'd been dreaming something…awful, but the details were lost in this…fog. It was like a wave of pure balmy silk had crashed against the pall in his head and torn it to pieces, leaving only warmth in its place. Eventually, he realized she was still waiting for an answer and cleared his throat.

"Surprisingly, yes."

Serana smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes, and nodded slightly. "Good." She turned toward the passage leading further into the cave. "Because I get the feeling we'll need our full strength for this."

"You want to go _now_?"

She snorted. "No time like the present." She must've spotted his worried look, because she smiled and said, "I'm feeling _much_ better, Kay. Trust me. Your blood is like, well… _magic_."

That managed to get a small laugh out of him as he gathered up the camp materials and prepared to move.

"There he is," said Serana, gently laying a hand on his cheek and stroking it with the backs of her fingers.

Ketar sighed hard and turned to her, gently gripping the side of her neck and staring into her eyes. "Are you sure you're okay, Sera?"

She nodded slowly and smiled wider. "I am now."

He gulped hard and nodded, drawing her into a tight embrace and holding on like he never wanted to let go.

"Kay," she said after a while.

"I know," he replied softly, hesitantly releasing her and finishing their preparations.

He whistled sharply and loaded all the materials onto Stormbreaker's back, then whispered a phrase in Dovah tongue that got him to canter off into the distance.

Ketar turned to her with a shrug. "Chances are we won't be back for a while, so I've sent him to my home in Markarth. He'll be close enough to help in a few minutes."

Serana's eyebrows hiked upward. "Seriously? Markarth is…at least six miles from here."

He smirked and fastened the last straps of his armor. "You'd be surprised how fast Stormbreaker can move when unencumbered and properly motivated. He's the one thing I brought with me from Cyrodiil, descended from the finest horses of Cheydinhal."

"Oh really? Gift from the monks?"

Ketar shrugged and pulled his hood up. "Something like that. And uh…they weren't really monks, per se…"

She gave him a sideways look. "What does _that_ mean?"

His head tilted briefly. "They were some of the last remaining Blades."

Serana's eyes widened. "Wait—is that how—"

"How they knew I was Dragonborn? I'd guess so. Now come on. We're burning moonlight."

She snorted a laugh and followed behind as they pressed deeper into the cave.

…

The sudden contrast in Ketar's mind between the beauty of the waterfall and what they ran into afterward was…unpleasant, to say the least. So much so that long after the ambushing frostbite spider was dead, he was hacking away and repeatedly kicking its corpse in a mix of residual fear and abject frustration.

Ketar screamed half-incoherent words with every kick. "Why—do—you—exist?!"

"Kay, I _think_ you got it."

He snapped to her with a half-hysterical fury in his eyes, one hand clenched into a fist, the other white-knuckling around the hilt of his sword.

Serana held her hands up in surrender. "Just take a breath." She slowly approached him, one hand gently going to his sword arm and getting him to relax slightly. "Focus on my voice."

He was staring at the corpse, its way-too-many eyes staring back at him unseeingly.

"Feel the sword in your hand, the magic pulsing through your blood. There is much to fear when you're helpless, but you are _not_ eight years old anymore."

He felt a stutter in his breath.

"You are _not_ defenseless. You are strong and brave and _magnificent_."

Slowly, Ketar took a gulp and managed to turn his gaze from the hateful arachnid to Serana, who put a hand on his cheek.

"And you're not alone. So, you see…you have nothing more to fear from them."

He took several deep, calming breaths, casting the dead spider one last look before sheathing his sword and grunting his way past it. A few turns later, he spoke up. "You know it isn't that simple, right?"

She sighed. "No deep-rooted fears ever are. But this isn't something you have to carry around with you anymore. And if you need someone to lean on, I'll help you through it."

Ketar gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you."

She smiled back. "It's the least I can do for how wonderful you are by default." She grinned. "Half the time I feel like I'm playing catch-up."

He snorted ungracefully as they entered a large antechamber. "Yeah right, with your experience?"

Ketar's brows furrowed as he looked around the chamber, spotting an old wooden bridge suspended by ropes and stakes spanning the length of the room. Below them, a treacherous-looking set of rapids sped past, a torrent of water no doubt carrying along anything in its path.

"Experience isn't everything, you know," said Serana.

He smiled and looked back to see a reassuring look in her eyes. "I know." He faced forward and tilted his head briefly. "But I bet it helps."

Serana leaned forward just enough to peek over the edge. "Ideas? Doesn't look like there's a passage deeper on the other end."

His head shook. "There isn't." He glanced over at her. "Guess it's a leap of faith, then."

She arched an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

Ketar grinned and backed up toward the edge. "Yep."

And then he leapt off the side.

…

Serana's glowing eyes rolled even as he cheered his way into the water, and she followed a moment later, bracing herself for the rapid acceleration of the rapids. The current didn't disappoint. Her stomach lurched sideways the moment she hit the water feet-first, her bottom half thrown sideways an instant before the rest of her followed, the current carrying both of them past one rocky crag after another. A flicker of large, hairy legs in her peripheral vision sent a shock of alarm through her system, and upon clawing her way to dry land, she saw just enough of Ketar's face to see pale skin.

Still, there was no tremble to his movements as he drew his sword and readied a fire spell in his left hand. Spotting more movement on her left, Serana prepared lightning bolts in both hands and let them off as soon as they were fully charged, striking the second spider in the legs and eyes. The eye impact caused a chain reaction of gruesome explosions that rendered the hateful creature blind and likely boiled its brain as well. On her right, Ketar's furious cries preceded the telltale sounds of long, spindly limbs being severed. A single glance confirmed him effectively vivisecting the spider, taking it apart piece by piece with traces of fear in the air around him, but more malevolent fury than anything else.

Finally, a cleaving strike carved a deep divot into the thing's head, black blood flying off his blade when he shook it off and slid it back into its sheath. Ketar turned to her, eyes darting to the side to see the other spider and lingering for just a moment before returning to her face.

She arched an eyebrow. "Better now?"

His lips pursed tightly as he cast the oversized arachnids another look. "Marginally." He snorted a small laugh as he stepped past her. "Like I said, experience helps."

He pressed his lips to her cheek briefly, but the split-second of contact still lit a fire in her chest—and reminded her of the promise she made him in the Soul Cairn. A devious grin spread over her face (thankfully out of his sight) as she followed him toward a passage at the far end of the large chamber. The rocky, uneven terrain obscured a great deal of their sight lines, following the path of the river toward a lit brazier in the distance. Serana and Ketar exchanged a glance at the sight.

"Why would anyone want to set up camp here?" she asked.

He just shrugged.

As they cautiously approached the fire, Ketar pulled Zephyr from the back of his belt and nocked an arrow, keeping it at the ready but not drawn back. The brazier, as it turned out, was placed right next to the entrance of a narrow, long passageway that sloped upward past several lit torches. At the end of the passage was a much larger fire, and a full camp at that, with bedding and supplies scattered about, along with a Breton woman's corpse, fairly fresh. They exchanged another look, splitting up and slowly clearing the space of threats.

"It's clear," said Ketar after a minute. He nodded at the corpse. "She must've set up the fires to repel the spiders."

Serana frowned and bent down toward the body to pick up and unfold a bloodstained note clutched in her fingers. "Or trolls."

Ketar snapped to her with an arched eyebrow. "Trolls?"

She nodded slowly, handing him the note. "Apparently she and someone else intended to live here and study them."

He nodded as he looked over the scribbles. "Probably what all the equipment was for." He sighed and pocketed the note. "Anyway, nothing more to do here. We need to move on."

Serana waved toward two new passages, one that led downhill, the other uphill. "These look like they lead deeper into the mountain."

"True," he said, frowning and narrowing his eyes as he summoned a Candlelight spell to hover around him. He stepped behind a second bedroll setup with a wooden canopy over it. "But I thought I saw something glinting back here…" He grinned and laughed. "Knew it!"

Serana strode over in time to see him pull a chain down. A loud grinding sound followed a second later, a large stone slab in the shadows sliding down to reveal a narrow secret passage.

Ketar glanced back at her with a smile. "Shortcut."

Sera arched an eyebrow and smirked. "You really have a knack for secret doors, don't you?"

He chuckled and twisted his body to slide through. "Comes from traversing six different kinds of ancient ruins for the past couple years." He looked back at her as they approached the end of the passage. "Let me tell you, the Dwarves were some twisted, paranoid bastards."

Serana's lips twitched with a brief smile before an unfamiliar voice stopped them both in their tracks.

"I'm afraid you don't know the half of it."

Immediately, they turned toward the source of the voice, a fairly well-lit area deep in the chamber beyond, where Serana noticed for the first time were the semblances of some strange and elegant alabaster architecture. Some distance off, a white-haired Elf in pale white armor was kneeling before a golden altar in the shape of the sun, slowly rising to his feet and turning to face them. Ketar's hand was on the hilt of his sword, but he didn't draw it, instead cautiously approaching with his empty hand motioning for Serana to stay behind him.

"What _is_ that?" she whispered, pointing at a large central structure. "I can feel some kind of power from it…"

"Come forward," said the Elf. "You have nothing to fear here."

They exchanged one more look before Ketar's hand left his sword, though Serana noticed that it remained near the hilt of the Blade of Woe. The Elf was paler than most, almost white-skinned, but not in a sickly or deathly way like a vampire. And he smiled as soon as they approached, arms spread outward.

"I am Knight-Paladin Gelebor," he said. "Welcome to the Great Chantry of Auri-El."

Ketar looked around at the collapsed pillars and white-stoned structures. "This cave is a temple to Auriel?"

Gelebor smiled. "Auriel, Auri-El, Alkosh, Akatosh...so many different names for the sovereign of the Snow Elves."

Ketar's eyebrows shot skyward. "Snow Elf? You're…you're a true-blue Falmer?"

He winced. "I prefer Snow Elf. The name 'Falmer' usually holds a negative meaning to most travelers."

Serana shrugged. "That's a pretty good point."

Gelebor bowed his head slightly in agreement. "Those twisted creatures you call Falmer, I call the Betrayed."

Ketar's brows furrowed. "Betrayed? Why?"

He sighed. "It is a rather long and tragic story, I'm afraid. And I believe it's safe to assume you haven't the time for that."

Serana frowned and crossed her arms. "Why would you assume that?"

Gelebor arched an eyebrow. "Your equipment." He waved at her. "And _your_ clothes."

She looked down at herself. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Other than the gaping holes?"

Serana snorted a laugh. "Fair enough."

Ketar frowned deeply and curled an arm around her back. "If you believe we're in a hurry, I imagine you also know why we're here."

Gelebor nodded, expression grave. "Of course. You're here for Auriel's Bow. Why else would you be here?" He tipped his head down slightly. "I can help you get it, but first I must have your assistance."

Ketar barked a humorless laugh. "Of course." His head shook slowly as his jaw tightened, a frustrated tension to his stance. "What do you want?"

The Elf's lips pursed tightly. "I need you to kill Arch-Curate Vyrthur...my brother."

 _That_ stopped them both in their tracks. Ketar spoke first.

"Kill your brother…why?"

"The kinship between us is gone. I don't understand what he's become, but he's no longer the brother I once knew. It was the Betrayed..." Gelebor frowned and looked away briefly, "they did something to him. I just don't know why Auri-El would allow this to happen."

Ketar frowned deeply. "I can't _remember_ the number of times I've asked myself that question." At Gelebor's questioning glance, he pulled the amulet of Akatosh from under his leather chestplate. "I have to believe my father has his reasons."

The Snow Elf's eyes widened in question, but he didn't ask.

Serana stepped forward. "What exactly did the Betrayed do?"

Gelebor's gaze turned to her and he cleared his throat. "They swept into the Chantry without warning and began killing everyone without pause."

"How did they even get access?" Ketar asked. "This place is pretty far removed from most of Skyrim."

Gelebor frowned. "I don't know. And that is a great part of what worries me. Something likely lured them in, and with only a token force of paladins, we didn't last long against their sheer numbers. They slaughtered everyone and stormed the Inner Sanctum where I believe they corrupted Vyrthur."

"How many exactly?"

His head shook. "Too many to count, but it happened so quickly, I wouldn't be surprised if my mind played tricks on me."

Ketar nodded slowly. "I know the feeling."

Serana frowned and crossed her arms. "How do you know your brother is still alive? I mean, you said these…Betrayed killed everyone without hesitation."

Gelebor's face darkened. "Except him. He's alive. I've _seen_ him. But something's wrong. He never looks as though he's in pain or under duress. He just...stands there and watches, as though waiting."

Serana frowned deeply, a cold feeling starting in the back of her head.

"Have you tried getting into the Inner Sanctum?" Ketar asked.

Gelebor's head shook. "Leaving the wayshrines unguarded would be violating my sacred duty as a Knight-Paladin of Auriel. And an assault on the Betrayed guarding the Inner Sanctum would only end with my death."

Ketar shrugged. "I've fought through worse, but then…I am sort of a demigod."

Gelebor shot him a look. "You are—"

"Dragonborn," he interrupted. "Soul of a dragon in a mortal body."

"Huh," the paladin hummed absently, staring at him appraisingly for a while. "I do not believe it coincidence that you are here, son of Auriel. Not at this particular point in time."

Serana's eyes narrowed. "Why's that?"

Gelebor took a breath. "Of late, Vyrthur has been …animated. Agitated. As if he felt something change in the very air."

Serana's cold feeling intensified.

"How do we get to him?" Ketar asked. "You mentioned wayshrines earlier?"

Gelebor nodded. "Yes. Come with me."

He waved them toward the dome structure in the center of the chamber, with a centerpiece shaped the same as the altar at which he'd been praying. Gelebor's right hand glowed with a magical light that hurt Serana's eyes. Given his connection with Auriel, it wouldn't have surprised her if he was using some form of sun magic. The spell flared for a moment before dissipating, and the centerpiece in the middle of the dome also began to glow with the same light before the whole structure began rising from the ground. A few moments' wait revealed that the dome was just the cap on a hexagonal pavilion with a single arched entrance.

Serana gaped and stared. "So _this_ is Snow Elf magic. Incredible."

Ketar smiled and glanced over at her.

Gelebor turned back to them. "This structure is known as a wayshrine. They were used for meditation and for transport when the Chantry was a place of enlightenment. Prelates of these shrines were charged with teaching the mantras of Auri-El to our Initiates."

Serana nodded toward a small pedestal in the middle of the pavilion. "What's that basin in the center signify?"

The Elf cleared his throat. "Once the Initiate completed his mantras, he'd dip a ceremonial ewer in the basin of the wayshrine's center and proceed to the next wayshrine."

She crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. "So these Initiates had to lug around a heavy pitcher of water. Marvelous. How long would they have to do that?"

He tipped his head down. "Well, once the Initiate's enlightenment was complete, he'd bring the ewer to the Chantry's Inner Sanctum. Pouring the contents of the ewer into the sacred basin of the Sanctum would allow him to enter for an audience with the Arch-Curate himself."

She shrugged and gave him a look. "All that just to end up dumping it out? Makes no sense to me."

Gelebor returned a peeved look. "It's _symbolic_. I don't expect you to understand."

Her eyes rolled. "So, let's get this straight. We need to do all that nonsense to get into the temple, so we can kill your brother and claim Auriel's Bow?" She caught Ketar shrugging and restraining laughter in the corner of her eye.

Gelebor sighed hard. "I know how it all sounds, but if there was another way I'd have done it long ago. The only way to get to my brother is by following in the Initiates' footsteps and traveling from wayshrine to wayshrine just as they did. The first lay at the end of Darkfall Passage, a cavern that represents the absence of enlightenment."

"How many more wayshrines are there?" Ketar asked.

"There are five in total, spread far across the Chantry."

He snorted. "These caves must be massive."

"Caves?" Gelebor smirked. "Oh, no. The Chantry encompasses far more than a few caves, as you'll soon discover. Ah—" He held up a finger. "Before I send you on your way, you'll need the Initiate's Ewer." Gelebor moved toward an ornate chest near a bedroll at one end of the room and began tossing things out. "Where is…I know I put it… _ah_!" He pulled out a pitcher that looked like it was made of the same material as the wayshrine. "The Initiate's Ewer. The key to your path forward."

Ketar took it carefully. "So I need to fill this at each wayshrine?"

He nodded. "Once you've located a wayshrine, there will be spectral Prelate tending to it. They will allow you to draw the waters from the shrine's basin as if you've been enlightened."

"Understood." He opened the rift and laid the ewer inside, much to Gelebor's delight. Ketar eyed him carefully. "I get the feeling you know a lot more than you're letting on."

The Elf blinked. "About what?"

"About me."

Gelebor's lips twitched with a hint of mischief. "Perhaps. But you will need to prevail against Vyrthur to find out." He waved them toward the wayshrine. "Now go, both of you. There are many dangers ahead, and you will need to keep up your strength. Do not tarry if it is not necessary, but if you have questions, ask them now. Otherwise, all I can do now is grant you my hopes for a safe journey."

Ketar frowned deeply and looked to the side for a moment before turning back to him. "How did the Falmer become the Betrayed?"

Gelebor sighed. "A sad, tragic tale. We were once a wealthy and prosperous society that occupied a portion of Skyrim. Unfortunately, we were constantly at war with the Nords who claimed the land as their ancestral home."

"I guess they won."

Gelebor flinched. "In a manner of speaking. We had always maintained an uneasy alliance with the underground-dwelling Dwarves, and when faced with extinction we turned to them for help. Surprisingly, they agreed to protect us, but demanded a terrible price...the blinding of our race."

Ketar's eyes widened in horror.

"Everyone couldn't _possibly_ have agreed to that," Serana said.

"There _were_ splinter groups that resisted the agreement," the paladin conceded, "and even some that sought alternate alliances. But when it was all said and done, those Elves were either slaughtered, vanished or gave up and took the Dwarves' bargain."

"Except here," Ketar pointed out.

"Well, the Chantry is quite isolated, so it took some time for word of the Dwarves' offer to reach us here. By the time the compact had been completed, it was too late for us to even _attempt_ to intervene."

Ketar shook his head mournfully, looking up at the architecture. "Such a beautiful culture…how could you _possibly_ have become those monsters?"

Gelebor sighed. "I've often asked myself the same question. The blinding of my race was supposedly accomplished with a toxin. Certainly not enough to devolve them into the sad and twisted beings they've become."

"Is there…could there be a way to reverse the process? Or, at least, undo their savagery?"

The paladin sighed again, a heavy, ancient sadness in his tone. "I've had more than a thousand years to consider that question, but until the Chantry is cleansed and my brother defeated, I cannot even _hope_ to find the answer."

Ketar's gaze hardened. "Well, you're about to get your chance."

He opened the rift and retrieved the ewer, then dipped it in the pedestal and stowed it again. Just the act of drawing the water must have activated something in the wayshrine, because the wall opposite the entryway flared with energy and erupted into a door-shaped portal that looked like a wall of constantly rippling water.

"Sera," Ketar said with a nod at the portal, "let's go."

Serana nodded and cast one last glance at Gelebor, who pressed his hand to his chest in salute before bowing his head slightly. She got the feeling he was bowing more to Ketar than her. They proceeded through the portal moments later, and her stomach dropped briefly before her vison faded to black.

…

Ketar fell through the other side of the portal onto his hands and knees, his body and equilibrium rapidly adjusting to the shifting physics of his environment. His vision returned a moment later, slowly rising to his feet and double-checking himself for injuries or missing pieces. At his side, Serana also stood and dusted herself off, cracking her neck with a small wince.

"Well..."

Ketar turned to her.

"That wasn't as unpleasant as I thought it would be." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Kind of soothing, actually. I feel a little warmer now."

Ketar chuckled softly and thought for a moment before realizing he felt the same thing, but to an extremely faint degree. "It must affect you more than me."

Serana smirked. "Or you're already too hot for it to matter."

"Ha ha," he deadpanned, turning toward the darkened passage before them. Ketar sighed hard. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Or you're just afraid of the dark."

He snorted and cast a Candlelight spell, which found its place in his sword's sapphire. "Why would I be when I can dispel it so easily?"

Serana arched an eyebrow at him with a pointed look.

Ketar blinked a few times before he barked a brief laugh. "Okay, I see your point." He felt her fingers lightly dance on his shoulder and slapped her hand away irritably. "Does _not_ mean that's okay now."

Sera laughed behind him and patted his arm firmly. "Come on, handsome. Let's get this done so we can finally take a breather."

He exhaled hard, following behind her. "Yes _please_."

They made their way down the corridor, luminescent plants retreating into themselves at their approach. A small pond of water stuck in a deep ditch was crossed over moments before a fleshy eruption was heard ahead, and Ketar's hand immediately went to the Blade of Woe. His eyes went wide a second later when something large, multi-legged, and winged came buzzing toward them from a massive, torn-open egg sac.

"Well…that's new."

Serana shot him a look at the statement and defaulted to charging a lightning spell while Ketar twirled the Blade from its sheath. Lightning seemed to work fairly well…at first. The hovering insect shuddered and jolted midair for a few moments before locking its beady compound eyes back on them and surging forward. Then Ketar took a closer look at the creature, at the coloration of its chitin and its underbelly—and he knew _exactly_ what it was.

"By Akatosh, that thing's a Chaurus!"

Serana looked over at him. "Seriously, you didn't know that?"

He shot her a look before sheathing his dagger and drawing Zephyr. The Chaurus, which he mentally named a "hunter," given that it was charging toward them with vicious abandon (though it wasn't like the smaller ones didn't do that anyway), received another lightning strike and ebony arrow to its outer shell, but barely even slowed. Ketar's blue eyes narrowed as he observed the creature for a moment, steadily backpedaling.

"The outer shell—it repels electricity!"

Serana glanced at him. "How could you possibly—"

"I may not know this type, but I know Chaurus biology. I'll get that thing's attention; you aim for its underbelly."

She gave him a nod as he charged down the relatively narrow passage, leaping over the Chaurus as one of its barbed forelegs made a swing at him and wallrunning across the rock to extend his flight. He hit the ground with a roll and spun around to face the creature. An arrow snapped from his quiver onto the bow, two fingers of his left hand stretching out to touch the arrow's shaft. The missile was released a moment later—into the rocky ceiling of the cave, with a magical cord tethering it to Ketar. Said cord retracted a moment later, sending him rocketing toward the top of the high-vaulted chamber and the Hunter following behind him.

Leaving its soft underbelly perfectly exposed.

Needless to say, as soon as Serana had the right shot lined up, her lightning practically cooked the creature from the inside out, and it fell to the ground, limp and twitching.

"Eww," Serana drawled at the sight, shuddering a bit.

"What?" Ketar asked as he extended the magical cable and lowered himself to the ground. "Can't stand the sight of your handiwork?"

She gave him a deadpan look. "No, I just find these things disgusting, in any form."

He shrugged. "Fair enough." He took and released a long breath. "Here's hoping we don't run into too many more of those, but…given the Falmer's tendency to tame them…"

"Yeah, pretty sure we can throw that hope out the window."

Ketar sighed hard. "Let's just go."

It wasn't twenty seconds later that Ketar spotted tunnels drilled into the walls, tunnels of familiar make—that began spitting out Falmer by the half-dozen. A profound sigh of pity came from his lips as he drew back his bow and let fly.

…

Several rapid, heavy breaths were exhaled as Ketar pulled his sword free of another Falmer corpse, the last of a small camp that had made their home in the cave. However long ago the Betrayed had infiltrated the Chantry, it must've been long enough for the Falmer to entrench themselves with a full complement of infrastructure, because they had irrigation, tunnels for faster travel, and more traps than Ketar was readily willing to stomach. Add to that all the Chaurus they'd tamed and sicced on the pair, and he was getting _very_ tired of these caves. As it happened, however, they were coming to the end of the path, seeing as how a cluster of traps were barring the way between them and a pull-chain.

Serana put a hand on his arm at the sight. "Stay here. I've got this."

Ketar nodded, but frowned as she moved toward the chain and leapt over the trip-wire, falling into an intricate pattern of tumbles and cartwheels, finishing with a twisting flourish that brought her entire body off the ground for a full two seconds to land on the far side. It was child's play to disable the traps from her end, and he followed behind just as she pulled the chain.

"Pull chains and traps." She glanced back at him. "Be careful here. Whatever's on the other side of this, the Falmer wanted to _keep_ there."

"If it takes them apart, something tells me it might be an asset to us."

The rock wall next to the chain slid down like the last secret passage they'd run across, permitting them to enter.

And immediately come face-to-face with a curiously-colored sabre cat.

The massive feline snarled and growled at them as it rose up on its forelegs, the bodies of several Falmer torn to shreds and strewn about it. Serana immediately reached for her dagger, but Ketar put a hand on her chest and gently pushed her behind him, slowly approaching the creature with his hand held out nonthreateningly.

"Easy," he spoke softly. "Easy there. We're not here to hurt you."

"I really don't think that's what it's concerned with," Serana said from behind him.

"Shh," he hissed, still approaching the creature, which was tense but not lunging for him. "We just need to pass." Ketar sidestepped once, twice, slowly moving around the cat in a circular motion. "Sera, come on." He held out his hand to her, and she cautiously stepped through the doorway to take it.

All through this, the cat eyed them suspiciously, its deadly gaze flickering to the dead Falmer at its feet, then to them as its features twitched curiously.

"Poor thing," Ketar said quietly when they were halfway around it. "All its life, it's probably had only Falmer and Chaurus to feed on. Can't imagine _those_ taste especially good."

"Yeah, which makes _us_ prime rib."

He shot her a look.

Serana shrugged. "Well… _you_."

Ketar just rolled his eyes and kept moving, slowly but steadily, until the creature turned back toward the open passage and snarled. "Hm. Wonder if it'll go after them."

"Not likely. Sabre cats aren't scavengers."

"That's fair. Still, if anything else tries to come through there, it'll kill it."

Serana glanced over at him. " _That's_ why you want to leave it alive?"

"Apart from the fact that it didn't do anything to us? Yeah. The less we have to deal with overall, the better, and I can't think of a better rearguard than a giant sabre cat."

She huffed a small laugh as they finally reached the exit. "I guess this is why you're a master thief…and assassin. Quite the talent for subtle victories."

Ketar smirked. "And a love for the not-so-subtle ones." He tugged on her hand and pulled her through the exit, which led to a stone ramp into a massive cavern below. "Beautiful."

And it was. Glowing mushrooms and crystals clung to the walls and ceiling of the cavern, with a waterfall running through and feeding an underground reservoir.

"Never saw anything like this back on the island," Serana said.

"That's what happens when you spend most of your life cloistered away in a castle."

"Not by choice."

"Did I ever say it was?"

They proceeded down the path, over one naturally-formed bridge after the next until they reached an upward slope with glowing crystals strewn about. Several elk with similar fur coloration to the sabre cat they'd passed tromped past them, going about without a care in the world.

Ketar glanced at Serana with a cheeky smile. "What were you saying about prime rib? Because I'm pretty sure venison tastes better than human."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on." She nodded at the hill. "I think I see another wayshrine up there."

Ketar's gaze snapped to her focus, and he charged up the hill with her in tow to see another one of those pavilions, still collapsed into the ground, with a ghostly form standing before it.

"One of the Prelates," he pointed out as they approached the spirit.

The Elven ghost turned to Ketar as soon as he got close enough. "Welcome, Initiate. This is the Wayshrine of Illumination. Are you prepared to honor the mantras of Auri-El and fill your vessel with His enlightenment?"

Ketar summoned his rift and pulled the ewer from its depths. "I am."

"Then behold Auri-El's gift, my child. May it light your path as you seek tranquility within the Inner Sanctum. May Auri-El's brilliance illuminate your path."

With that, the ghost vanished and the pavilion rose from the depths of the stones. Ketar stepped forward and dipped the Initiate's Ewer in the basin, like at the first one, the far inner wall of the pavilion forming another portal as he returned the jug to the rift. Ketar exchanged a look with Serana before pushing through the portal and coming out in a cavern filled with more glowing crystals. He bent over one of the larger formations and hummed curiously.

"I wonder if these things have any special magical properties." Ketar took a sharp breath. "That reminds me." He reached into a pouch at the back of his belt and rose to face Serana. "I'd meant to give you this a while ago, after we got out of the Soul Cairn."

Serana tilted her head curiously, holding out her hand as he dropped something into her grasp. She stared down at her palm to see the reassembled shards of the Keepers' perfect gem focus sitting in her hand. Her eyes turned back up to Ketar with a surprised look.

He shrugged. "Just in case you needed to erect a particularly strong barrier in the future."

"But you're better with Alteration magic than I am."

"I know. That's the point. Your shield spells may not be as strong as mine, but with that thing, you should be able to assemble a personal barrier that can withstand just about anything." He smirked. "After all, it erected a castle-spanning wall that kept your mother imprisoned for centuries."

Serana's head tilted briefly in a shrug. "Guess I'll be getting some practice then. Thanks."

Ketar smiled and nodded. "Besides, if I get in a really tight spot, I can always go intangible at will."

She chuckled. "True."

His smile faded slowly as she tucked the gem into a satchel at her belt. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Serana blinked and stared up at him confusedly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Ketar just shot her a look. "Are you serious? After what happened last night? After you were practically—" He frowned and looked away, glancing back to see her smiling sadly.

"Yeah, well…" her features twisted with bitterness, "wouldn't have been the first time."

Ketar's jaw dropped as he stared at her. "Sera, what are you—"

"I'm _fine_ , Kay," she insisted. "Trust me." Her head tilted as she stepped past him. "Compared to what I've been through in the past, Vingalmo's like a fumbling teenager."

Ketar's voice darkened as he stared at her back. "That's _not_ a comforting thought."

Serana stopped mid-step and sighed hard. "Centuries of life come with centuries of pain, Ketar. If I didn't already know how to deal with it, I doubt I'd still have my sanity." She looked back at him, eyes pleading. "So can we _please_ just move on?"

Ketar's jaw tightened as he stared at her, fists unconsciously clenched at his sides. "Fine. But don't think this is the last we'll speak of it."

"Kay—"

"You told me that our relationship isn't one where you can just lock down on the other person." He approached and gently took her chin in his hand, tipping her head up to meet his gaze. "That means not keeping secrets from each other. _Especially_ when it comes to what gives us pain."

One look in her eyes told him she wanted to argue, but Serana just clenched her jaw and bit out, "Fine." Then turned for the passage forward and kept walking.

A heavy, long-suffering sigh came from Ketar's lips as he followed behind her, all else going blank as he focused on her words.

 _"Wouldn't have been the first time…" What the hell does_ that _mean?_

Whatever the case, if the endless thoughts and scenarios running through his head were anywhere close to the truth, someone was _going_ to die...slowly.

And very—very—painfully.

* * *

AN: OMG I am so sorry it took this long. I'm not even gonna make excuses. I spent the last week catching up on _The Flash_. Which is awesome. If you haven't already, go watch that freaking show. Anyway, got some more plot and interaction between these two and all that and finally getting into the Snow Elf storyline. Because of their ties to Auriel, AKA Akatosh, I intend to expand a bit on the Snow Elves' lore surrounding the Dragonborn, and sun magic in particular. A whole lot of stuff with regard to Ketar's ties to Akatosh will be expanded on in this arc, and I hope you won't find it too boring. Trust me, it's necessary for what I have planned later.

At any rate, hope you enjoyed this and are looking forward to more.

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion - Peace of Akatosh: convincing Ketar/falling asleep/Nirn and Sky/waking up/preparations

P.S.: I wrote the song Serana sings to Ketar, with a little help on concept from one of my readers. You know who you are.


	16. Touching the Sky, Part II

Ketar forced himself to quiet his mind after he nearly tripped three times while ascending a large spiral ramp made entirely of rock. The Snow Elves must have taken ages to build that system of ascension, but seeing as how they were basically immortal, they would've had the time. Nevertheless, thoughts of the implications of what Serana had just told him kept pushing at the fore of his mind. With a deep breath and a close of his eyes, Ketar summoned a memory from the not-so-distant past.

…

 _"Your footwork is off. Your focus is elsewhere."_

 _A hard sigh was exhaled as dark blue eyes rolled and cast a withering glare at the speaker. "So your talents extend to mind-reading now?"_

 _A tall Imperial man with red hair chuckled and paced around his student with his arms crossed. "I don't need to be psychic to see that your thoughts are not on the task at hand. I was a teenager too, once, you know."_

 _A snort. "I find that_ highly _unlikely." The youth hefted and pointed at his teacher with a practice wooden sword in his right hand. "You're so_ stiff _now. So rigid."_

 _"Only when it comes to your training. If you're talking about footwork—"_

 _The man lunged forward and assaulted the boy with several rapid diagonal strikes, each deflected just in time only for him to press the attack and use the force behind one blow to throw his student off-balance, then trip him with a kick to his right calf._

"— _mine couldn't be more fluid."_

 _The kid glared up at his teacher and let out a hard, frustrated breath as he took the other man's offered hand. Upon being hoisted to his feet, he lunged for the Imperial with an arm across his chest, trying to throw him backward off his feet, but found himself dumped over the man's shoulder and slammed into the cobblestone ground. A long, pronounced groan came from his throat as he slowly rolled face-up, regaining his footing a moment later and coming face-to-face with his teacher._

" _You know, there comes a point where being a hardass gets old, Niel."_

 _The Imperial grinned. "There's a reason some ways are old-fashioned, Ketar." He patted the kid's shoulder. "Means they're tried and true."_

 _Ketar arched an eyebrow. "Or you're just too stubborn for your own good."_

 _Niel shrugged. "Stubbornness can be a good thing, when applied to the proper use." He pointed his own sword at Ketar. "You should know that."_

 _He sighed and started pacing._

" _So, where are you?"_

 _Ketar waved at his snow-streaked surroundings. "The Jerall Mountains, right outside Cloud Ruler Temple. As always."_

 _Niel snorted. "Smartass. I meant in your head."_

 _The kid's head shook slowly. "Don't know."_

" _Yeah you do. You just don't want to tell me."_

 _Ketar looked up toward the gray skies. "You say that like you're surprised."_

" _Of_ course _I'm not surprised. You stopped sharing your thoughts when you were fourteen years old."_

 _His jaw tightened._

 _Niel sighed hard and looked out into the distance. "Fine. If you're not gonna say anything, I will. Keeping your focus isn't as simple as narrowing your focus down to one particular thought. That's suppression, and though it may be useful in the short term, long-term it's unsustainable."_

 _Ketar's eyes flickered to his teacher. "Then what do you suggest?"_

" _Decide what to focus on. Simply shifting your thinking isn't enough. You have to decide to set everything else aside if you want to have true focus without sacrificing what makes you so effective."_

 _He turned to face him. "And what's that?"_

 _Niel smirked. "With you? Your heart. And that brilliant, smartass mind of yours."_

 _A smile twitched at Ketar's lips._

 _The Blade clapped Ketar on the shoulder and guided him back toward the temple in the distance. "Knowing how to apply those traits with the right focus, in any situation, will give you power beyond anything you've ever imagined. You just need to decide what kind of person you want to be, and never,_ ever _let anything get in the way of that." He looked Ketar dead in the eyes, mouth set in a thin line. "Understand?"_

 _Ketar blinked once, twice, and nodded._

 _Niel gave him one more clap on the shoulder before gathering up their gear. "Now, let's get back to the fortress." He grinned. "I'd bet you for what's on the dinner menu, but Katja perpetually banned me from gambling."_

 _Ketar arched an eyebrow. "After what happened in the Arena, I can't say I blame her."_

" _I'd had one too many pints. And_ he _started it! It wasn't my fault."_

" _Mhm. Tell that to the Legionnaires we had to bribe to get you out of prison."_

" _Ugh…you're gonna lord that over me forever, aren't you?"_

" _Yep. And_ I'm _supposed to be the teenager."_

 _Niel laughed. "Told you I wasn't stiff."_

" _There's a difference between flexibility and irresponsibility. You taught me that."_

 _He sighed hard. "So I did."_

…

"Kay…"

Ketar's mind snapped back to the present, focus dead on keeping Serana safe until—

"What the—" Ketar's jaw dropped wide open as his eyes followed suit and he gaped at the view before him.

"It's like…stepping into a whole other world."

Ketar's head tipped sideways. "Couldn't have put it better myself."

For almost a full minute, the two of them couldn't help but stand and stare at the magnificent vista below. The peaks of the Jerall Mountains split down the middle to form a deep, wide valley untouched by snow. As it were, the moon illuminated much of the valley below, with various evergreen trees and large swaths of grass strewn about the hilly landscape. Around and above the valley were the familiar snow-capped peaks of the Jerall range, as if marking the boundaries of a magical realm within Skyrim, though separate for one reason or another. Throughout the span of the valley were more remains of the same alabaster stone architecture apparently common to Snow Elf artistry, and off in the distance—

"Up there," said Serana, "another wayshrine."

Ketar nodded. "I see it. Let's keep moving," he added, starting to climb down the hill.

Serana put a hand on his chest. "Let me take the lead. I can see in the dark better than you."

He tipped his head in assent and drew Zephyr as a precaution, drawing his hood a little tighter around his face. The shadows typically held few secrets for his well-trained eyes, but all the same, this place didn't seem to abide by the rules very much. No telling what they'd find lurking in the cracks. As it happened, he didn't have to wait long to find out. Serana's sudden tension was his first and only warning before she lunged toward him and shoved him off his feet. The reason was rapidly forthcoming when a pitch-black form briefly passed over the moon, a savage feline snarl signaling the presence of another sabre cat.

This one was a little different from the first, and radically different from the rest of Skyrim's sabre cat population, with black fur dotted by white spots. It was no wonder he hadn't spotted it earlier. Even with the light of the moon shining down on it, he could barely make it out against the dark background of the valley. It was like its fur absorbed the very light from its environment. One look at its jaws told him that being tackled by it would have been… _significantly_ unpleasant. Ketar scrambled to his feet as Serana faced off with the gigantic feline, taking a deep breath and stepping between them.

" _Raan-Mir_!"

The cat came to an abrupt stop, blinking several times and watching the pair with ice-blue slitted eyes, then shuffling off to a nearby cove and licking its forepaw.

Serana stared at the sight blankly for a few moments before slowly turning to Ketar. "That's a new one."

He nodded slowly. "Very useful when you don't want to wreck the wildlife." He collapsed Zephyr, but kept it in his hand, ready to go. "Come on."

They proceeded further down the hill, making their way to the northwest even as they passed more sabre cats, who barely gave them a glance. Serana still didn't take her eyes off them until they were long past. It wasn't long before the terrain began to slope back upward, and they approached the wayshrine Serana had pointed out earlier. Like the others, it was still mostly buried in the ground, and in the pale moonlight they could just make out a ghostly form standing guard over its dome. Ketar proceeded forward, catching the prelate's attention and prompting him to face them.

"Welcome, Initiate. This is the Wayshrine of Sight. Are you prepared to honor the mantras of Auri-El and fill your vessel with His enlightenment?"

Ketar nodded. "I am."

The prelate bowed his head slightly as the pavilion rose from the snow. "Then behold Auri-El's gift, my child. May it speed your journey to the Inner Sanctum. May Auri-El's light guide you in your darkest hours."

Ketar stepped past him and summoned the ewer, repeating the same process again and watching as another portal emerged on the far wall of the structure. Squinting at the portal, he could just make out the darkened background of the cave they'd just exited, and stepped away as a result. He turned to Serana once they'd made it partway down the hill.

"You see any more of them? My night-sight isn't as good as yours."

Her eyes narrowed at something off to the southwest. "Maybe. Something over there hurts my eyes, and with the Snow Elves affinity for sun magic—"

"That's probably one of the wayshrines' centerpieces. Let's go."

Ketar took off down the hill at a run, Serana easily keeping his pace as they made their way toward the opposing hill, making their way halfway up before four entirely too familiar silhouettes were revealed by the moonlight as they dropped from the rocks above. Four frostbite spiders, two more than three times his size, landed not twenty feet in front of them, blocking their path through a narrow ravine that led up the hill. Freezing momentarily, Ketar took a moment to close his eyes and breathe in deeply, then release it in a Shout.

" _Yol-Toor-Shul_!"

The sudden burst of searing heat reduced the already-fire-vulnerable spiders to charred crispy bits in seconds, a wave of mollified fury passing through their killer's veins for a moment before he felt the familiar nausea stir up and forced himself to step past the corpses.

"Ketar—"

"I'm okay," he interrupted somewhat breathlessly. "I'm okay. Just…need to keep moving, okay?"

Serana nodded slowly. "Okay. I'm right behind you.

Upon reaching the top of the hill, they started their descent down the other side and came up on a river with ice all around its banks. Just before they reached it, something caught Ketar's attention, and he turned aside to see a skeleton with its arms wrapped around a large chest. One hand was curled around the upper lid of the chest, while the other clutched a large book with the same sun symbol as the wayshrines embossed on its cover. He gently pried it loose and flipped it open. A cursory glance at its pages was enough to reveal that he had no idea what he was reading. The symbols were completely foreign, even to his well-read eyes.

Serana looked over his shoulder curiously, apparently trying to decipher it as well, before quickly giving up and turning back toward the river below them. Ketar hummed absently and stowed the book in the rift. He'd take it to the College of Winterhold later, add it to the Arcanaeum's collection, or see if Urag could do something to translate its pages. The man was always remarkably talented with various tongues. Ancient Falmer, which Ketar could only guess it was written in, would be an exciting new challenge for him. The Dragonborn rose to his feet and resumed his walk down to the bank of the river, making his way south toward the light Serana had seen and finding the familiar form of a Falmer dome not long after.

This one's ghost materialized out of a nearby rock formation and approached them with his hands folded over his chest. "You've reached the Wayshrine of Learning, Initiate. Are you prepared to honor the mantras of Auri-El and fill your vessel with His enlightenment?"

Ketar gave a tired sigh. "Yes."

He smiled. "Auri-El bless you, child. For you are a step closer to the Inner Sanctum and everlasting wisdom. May Auri-El's warmth imbue your body with strength."

The wayshrine rose behind the ghost, and they stepped through the prelate to reach the basin. Two portals emerged this time, one to the cave, and the other to…

"That looks like the hill we were just on," Serana pointed out. "Where that other wayshrine was."

Ketar nodded slowly. "I think these wayshrines double as a rapid travel system, not just primary traversal, just in case the other initiates lost their way." He frowned in thought. "That and…the pavilions themselves emit a strange warmth."

"Which you also feel when you go through the portal."

"Exactly. Guess that's sun magic for you."

Serana's eyes widened suddenly as she followed Ketar from the structure. "Wait…sun magic."

He turned to her. "What about it?"

She pointed at him. "Your rift. You said it was a portal directly to Akatosh's realm of Aetherius."

His eyes widened in realization. "And since time and space are integrally connected, any magic connected with Auriel, or Akatosh, has the potential to bend one or the other. You think the Falmer managed to replicate that effect with these portals."

She nodded. "Which means that Gelebor character knows more about your rift than he's letting on."

Ketar snorted. "One thing at a time, Sera. He did say he'd tell us everything once we kill Vyrthur. The sooner we find the rest of the shrines, the better."

…

The next wayshrine, the Wayshrine of Resolution, wasn't difficult to reach. Or, it wasn't for a Dragonborn and pureblood vampire. Anyone else would've found the trek alone quite exhausting, and with the added dangers of wild animals running loose? Forget it. What drew Ketar's attention was a familiar whisper at the edge of his consciousness, drawing him to the south of the wayshrine. Serana followed behind him cautiously, not receiving a word as to his intentions, but apparently trusting him anyway.

"You're awfully quiet," Ketar pointed out.

Serana glanced his way. "Thought you said you weren't one for idle chatter."

"I'm not. But you are."

She snorted. "I wouldn't say that."

"But long periods of peace aren't usually this silent."

Serana arched an eyebrow at him. "We're trekking through a forgotten vale from a whole other world in the middle of the night, with unknown dangers all around us, and you think this is peaceful?"

Ketar blinked. "I think any time we're not getting clawed or swiped at is peaceful."

Her head shook slowly, a wry smirk forming. "You have very low standards for peace."

"Maybe because I haven't really known it since coming to Skyrim."

Her smile fell.

Ketar heard a familiar crunch under his boots and looked down to see crushed snow at the edge of a much larger frozen lake…with an island in the center bearing the familiar gray stone of a Word Wall.

"Well, this isn't precarious at all," he drawled with a cautious step onto the ice.

"You're lucky you have a light step," said Serana as she followed behind him just as silently.

"And that the ice is this thick. Especially with how strange the weather is here. It's like it's warm one second, and then you walk twenty paces and it's cold again."

"Yeah. Could be the wayshrines."

"I guess we'll know more once we see Gelebor again."

"Right. Why are we here again? Did you see another shrine in this direction?"

"No," he admitted as they approached the island, "I saw something every bit as valuable."

The familiar whispers and chants of the dragon tongue reached Ketar's consciousness and intensified the closer they got, rising to a fever pitch as he climbed a set of stone stairs to the wall. A small section of the wall's etchings glowed starkly against the pitch-black backdrop of night, tendrils of energy drawing him closer until he could feel the etchings copy themselves onto his mind. His eyes slid shut as he processed the new information, putting it together with the Word of Power he'd found in Dimhollow Crypt and gaining new meaning from it.

 _"Gaan. Lah."_

He'd heard the words from a few dragons, but their true meaning had escaped him until that moment, even as he felt and saw flashes of memories from Vedsosvith, of a previous kill and the words uttered to perform it.

" _Gaan. Lah." Stamina. Magicka._

His eyes snapped open with a sudden thought.

 _Wait…Arcwind Point…yes…when I was hunting a bounty, I found another Word Wall there too, couldn't understand what it meant, but with Vedsosvith's memories, now I see… "Gaan. Lah. Haas." Stamina. Magicka. Health. The three elementary components that make up life._

His attention turned back to the Word Wall and its inscription.

 _This is a Shout meant to fray and eventually sever one's ties to life itself._

A sudden roar from behind caught his attention, the ground beneath them rumbling.

 _And I'm about to get the chance to try it out._

A moment later, his jaw dropped as two large silhouettes shattered a large section of the ice and took to the skies. "Serana?"

"Yeah?"

"My night-sight isn't as sharp as yours, so…please tell me there aren't actually two of them."

"There aren't two of them."

"…you're lying to make me feel better—"

"Yeah."

Ketar let out a long breath that whistled through his teeth, drawing Zephyr and readying two arrows.

"…you _have_ taken on two at once before, right?"

"Well, yes, but…with backup."

Serana shot him a look.

He sighed. "More than one person." And then something occurred to him, and he relaxed his bow. "Which…I think I can make happen right now."

She glanced back at him, readying her sword in one hand and a spell in the other. "Whatever you're going to do, make it fast!"

Ketar took a deep breath, sending a silent prayer to Akatosh before Speaking. " _Dur-Neh-Viir_!"

Ketar caught Serana's alarmed glance a split-second before a massive explosion of dark energy erupted at the bottom of the island's stairs, a moment's time dissipating the energy and revealing a familiar rotting form on the other side, Durnehviir's gray-scaled visage turning to face Ketar.

" _Qahnaarin_ ," he addressed with a bow of his head. "The free air of Vus at long last!"

Ketar frowned. "I understand your excitement, but we have _slightly_ more pressing matters at the moment!"

Two nearly-identical roars split the night, and Ketar ducked and drew back his arrows as two dark forms swooped down toward the island. He loosed the missiles and struck them both somewhere in their underbellies as Serana let loose with her magic. Their combined attack forced the dragons to arc off, though Ketar knew they wouldn't be gone for long.

Durnehviir nodded sagely. "This I can see."

The Dragonborn turned to him. "So then. If you were serious about being my ally, prove it!"

Even in the failing moonlight, Ketar could see Durnehviir's face sprout the dragon equivalent of a smile.

…

 _Freedom._

The word was…deceptively sweet, especially to Durnehviir's ancient, jaded mind. Countless millennia spent imprisoned in the Ideal Masters' foul realm had all but worn all the hope from his immortal bones. But then this boy came along, a boy with the heart and soul of one of his brothers, and quite literally yelled sense back into him. And when that failed, he _struck_ it into him. Now, in a hope beyond hope, Ketar Dov summoned him to the clear, sweet air of Nirn, to fight, granted, but still. Better to have bitter with the sweet than no sweetness at all.

And it was with this thought that the undead _dovah_ took to the sky and let his wings carry him forth on tempestuous currents. The shackles of the Soul Cairn would drag him back down soon enough, but to have them so weakened by a single Shout from Ketar's lips…it gave him new hope for a life beyond simply following the Ideal Masters' orders. A life that, perhaps, could have meaning once more. Though it saddened him that his first action in the world of mortals in ages would be to slay two of his own kind, he served one who had the potential to become far greater than any of them.

And that alone made these two irrelevant.

…

" _Fo-Krah-Diin_!"

Serana and Ketar stared at their new dragon ally with some disbelief.

"Wow," she exhaled. "He's really taking to his new job with gusto."

"Yeah, that surprises me too," Ketar admitted. "I was half expecting him to bounce back to the Soul Cairn once he saw what we were up against. Wouldn't have blamed him for it either."

Serana hummed absently as she sheathed her ebony sword and took aim with ice spikes, trying not to hit Durnehviir. As it turned out, they didn't have a single thing to do for quite some time. While those two had spent however many ages trapped in the ice or dead, Durnehviir had been fighting for the Ideal Masters as an immortal undertaker, herding and subduing the worst of the worst. So when one of the dragons lunged at Durnehviir's back and tried to use fire breath on him, the undead dragon whipped his tail at it and smacked it in the jaw, the other one finding itself on the wrong end of Durnehviir's fangs when he clamped down on its neck.

Ketar winced. "Ohhh that's gotta hurt."

Serana snorted a laugh. "You say that like you haven't experienced it."

He looked over at her with an incredulous stare. "Do both my arms still look attached?"

She blinked and glanced at his shoulders. "Yes?"

"Do you really think they would be if _that_ —" he pointed at the sky, where Durnehviir thrashed his head sideways, tossing the dragon in his jaws into the side of a nearby mountain, "—had happened to me?"

Serana's lips pursed as she stared at the sight, nodding slowly. "Good point."

Finally, the second dragon managed to get one of its foretalons around Durnehviir's torso and started dragging him toward the ground, both falling quite the distance before they heard Durnehviir's voice.

" _Qahnaarin_!"

"I've got him!" Ketar yelled back. " _Fus-Ro-Dah_!"

The wave of kinetic energy that catapulted toward them managed to knock the two dragons apart right before they hit the ice. Durnehviir was expecting it. The other dragon wasn't. As such, only one managed to pull up in time, and it wasn't the one trying to kill them. Serana sprinted toward the hostile dragon as it crashed into the ice, making massive cracks along the frozen lake and starting to sink in.

"Serana!" Ketar shouted in alarm, seeing her rushing toward the broken ice.

She ignored him and leapt for its head once she was in range, managing to get one arm curled around its left horn and position herself on its head despite its thrashing.

The dragon roared as it fruitlessly tried to dislodge Serana. " _Zu'u Naaslaarum, ahrk zu fen ni dir med daar_!"

"Oh yes!" Ketar shouted from the island, Zephyr drawn back fully. "Yes you will."

Serana pulled back on both its horns hard, getting the beast to crane its neck—and expose its heart in the process.

Something Ketar took full advantage of when he drove three ebony arrows between its scales in quick succession.

The creature roared and thrashed about for a few more seconds, further breaking the ice and starting to sink in earnest when it finally fell limp, leaving Serana to claw her way off its back and onto the solid(ish) ground of the frozen lake. Ketar ran up to her side a moment later, helping her to her feet as she caught her breath.

"Thanks," she gasped, turning her attention to the second dragon, who was raging at the loss of their comrade.

"Surrender, _zeymah_ ," Durnehviir called from his position (namely, hovering about sixty feet above the Dragonborn). "We needn't spill more _dovah_ blood this day."

The other dragon scoffed. "You would follow this _pretender_ and stand against your own kind?! Alduin will see you _both_ burn! And I, Voslaarum, will be his instrument!"

With that, the dragon dove toward them and twirled around a charging Durnehviir, managing to make a straight line for Ketar, who had retracted Zephyr and had one hand on the hilt of Dragonborn's Fury. They Spoke at the exact same moment.

" _Fus-Ro-Dah_!"

" _Gaan-Lah-Haas_!"

The explosion of force from the dragon slammed into and past Ketar even as the dragon's energy seemed to fade before Serana's eyes. Its wings fell limp as it lost its strength and tucked itself into half of a ball to cushion its landing. Ketar, on the other hand…

"Kay!" she shrieked upon seeing the full effects of Voslaarum's Shout.

Namely, that the wave of energy hadn't just decked Ketar, it also shattered the ice beneath his feet and plunged him into freezing cold water…with a current. Needless to say, Serana lunged for the water and dove in without hesitation, her inhuman muscles propelling her through the water until her arms wrapped around Ketar's midsection. She clawed her way back to the nearest hole in the ice, throwing him out before she leapt clear of the current, both of them soaked to the bone. Not even bothering to pay attention to Voslaarum, Serana immediately bent over Ketar's unmoving form, checking for a heartbeat and breath. Both were there. Barely.

A familiar heat stirred in her veins as something within her ignited, much the same way as it had the night she saved Ketar from Vingalmo. Serana's fangs bared viciously as she turned her glaring gaze onto the recovering Voslaarum.

" _Bastard_!"

Before she knew it, she had already cleared half the distance between them, her sword flying from its sheath and trailing a thin line through the ice behind her. Voslaarum recovered just in time to see her coming, and drew himself up defensively as a result, his wings coming together and pushing forward rapidly just as she came within striking distance. The result was a _massive_ blunt strike that impacted the flat edge of Serana's ebony blade and all but knocked it from her grip. The Unrelenting Force Shout that came from the dragon's lips a moment later finished that task, as well as throwing her all the way back to Ketar, who was just starting to recover his wits.

He recovered just enough to all but scream in alarm when Serana reached for the closest weapon available and charged back toward Voslaarum in a blood rage. She danced around the dragon, slashing and cutting almost incoherently, feeling damage done to her body but only distantly, like the touch of a dream. It wasn't until she heard him utter the first word of his fire breath that she realized she was in trouble. Rapid movement from above—and the desire not to get cooked—prompted her to leap fifteen feet backward as Durnehviir tackled Voslaarum through the ice, plunging them both into the water. Serana gasped for air as the last of her blood rage began to fade away, her eyes turning to see a now-unhooded Ketar gaping at her. She cocked her head in question for just a moment before the ice once again exploded, some fifty feet behind her, as the two dragons tangled together in a deadly aerial dance.

" _Yol-Toor-Shul_!"

" _Fo-Krah-Diin_!"

Durnehviir and Voslaarum's Voices clashed in a brilliant explosion of fire and ice, their elements pushing and thrashing against each other for a good three seconds before the frost began to gain ground. The clash persisted another moment or two before Voslaarum's end collapsed entirely for lack of strength or breath, and he suddenly found himself dragged down to Nirn by a pair of frozen wings. He attempted to flap them twice in desperation, but howled in pain when they refused to cooperate. As a result, he landed on the island in the center of the lake with a mighty crash, his gigantic form falling limp as agony no doubt permeated his entire serpentine body.

Serana made her way toward the island with Ketar close in tow, Durnehviir touching down next to the fallen dragon as they arrived and approaching Voslaarum's head.

"You are beaten, _zeymah_ ," said Durnehviir. "Yield and you may yet be shown mercy." He cast Ketar a sorrowful look. "A concept which has taken me…some time to grasp."

Apparently, the wyrm still had some defiance left in him. "You speak of mercy, as if I were a lame _dog_. I would rather die than grovel at the feet of this rabble," he scoffed and spat at Ketar. "Or those weak enough to do his bidding." He cast a glare at Durnehviir.

The undead dragon looked to Ketar, and he nodded back to him.

Durnehviir turned his gaze to Voslaarum, head cocked. "You speak of weakness, _zeymah_ , and yet…" he shifted his hips and placed his left rear paw on the side of Voslaarum's head, " _you_ are the one beneath my heel. Think on that as you languish in death."

With a single, smooth twist of his hips, Durnehviir snapped Voslaarum's neck, stepping away and sinking down to all fours. A few moments passed as Serana waited for the dragon's body to decompose, but it didn't, and she turned to Ketar in question.

He shook his head. "I didn't kill him. Therefore, his soul isn't mine to take." A faint sizzle was heard from the direction of the lake as the tendrils of energy she'd been waiting for came rushing into Ketar's body. "Him, on the other hand…"

Serana nodded slowly, turning to Durnehviir after a few moments. "So what now?"

The dragon's head bowed slightly. "My time here grows short, Lady Serana, but I still have enough anchoring me to give the first part of my gift to the Dovahkiin."

Ketar stepped forward. "And what's that?"

"The first word of my shout, Soul Tear." He pointed his muzzle at the ground between them. " _Rii_."

The Word of Power etched itself into the rock, the strange language keeping Ketar's attention for a few moments before his gaze returned to Durnehviir.

"The essence of your enemy's life force," the dragon explained.

Ketar frowned and bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, Durnehviir. And not just for the teaching. This battle would have been much more difficult without you by our side."

"It is the least I can do for setting me free from that insufferable prison, even if only for a few short minutes."

Serana frowned and bit her lower lip. "Durnehviir?"

The dragon turned to her with a curious gaze.

"I think…I owe you an apology."

 _Ketar_ turned to her at that one.

She shrugged. "I can't even _imagine_ living in that place for most of my life. The prospect of getting out…I can understand wanting to do anything to make that happen, no matter who gets in the way."

Durnehviir frowned. "Regardless, knowing Valerica is your mother is enough to stay my hand now."

"And for that," said Ketar, "you have our thanks. And a promise to summon you to Tamriel again. Soon."

The dragon bowed his head in deference. "An opportunity I shall await with much excitement." The edges of the air around him began to glow with dark energy. "Until then, _Qahnaarin_ , stay safe, and may your Voice remain ever strong."

The portal that brought Durnehviir to Nirn reemerged and took him, vanishing a moment later and leaving them staring at empty air and the corpse of a fallen dragon.

Serana remained there for a few seconds before glancing down at the weapon in her hand and blinking a few times, then holding it out to Ketar hilt-first. "I should probably give this back to you."

He chuckled and accepted it. "Yeah, probab—" He stopped short mid-sentence, eyes wide.

She gave him a sideways look. "What?"

Ketar's lips pursed. "Let me see your hands."

Serana frowned and tilted her head, then held them out palms-up.

He sheathed Dragonborn's Fury, then inspected her hands carefully, gaze dragging up to her eyes as he stared at her in awe. "You're not…"

She stared at him in confusion. "Not…wha—" Her eyes widened suddenly as they flickered to the sapphire in the Fury's hilt, realization striking hard as she looked back down to her hands. "I'm not…I wasn't burned."

"You weren't burned," he confirmed.

Serana looked back up to him. " _Why_ wasn't I burned? You said anyone without dragon blood would be. Does that mean the enchantment doesn't work?"

Ketar smiled and shook his head slowly. "No, it works."

Her confusion returned. "But…I'm not Dragonborn."

His smile became a grin. "Nope."

She stared at him for a few more moments before the final piece fell into place. "Your blood."

"Yep. Along with enhanced regeneration, strength, and speed—basically all of my physical traits, you must get a temporary connection to dragon magic."

"Meaning that as long as I have your blood running in my veins—"

"You'll be able to use Dragonborn's Fury." His head cocked. "In fact, you're probably the only non-dragon who could."

Serana frowned. "Is…that a good thing?"

Ketar blinked and smiled, a strange, warm look in his eyes. "There's no one I'd trust with it more."

She arched a raven eyebrow. "Not even Lydia?"

He chuckled and turned back toward the mainland. "She's deadly enough _without_ a dragon-killing superweapon."

Serana laughed. "Good point."

…

A long, protracted trek back across the frozen landscape of the Forgotten Vale brought them to a massive glacial crevice in the side of a mountain, littered with Falmer and Chaurus of various types, admittedly not difficult to kill (or resurrect, in Serana's case). The pair made fairly short work of the poisonous cretins, but they were of such volume that even Serana was beginning to slow down after the second dozen. It wasn't until they reached a small campsite inside the crevice that Ketar cleaved through the helmet of one final Falmer, then collapsed against a crude Falmer tent.

"I need—" he gasped, "—I need a break. Just a minute or so."

Serana cleaned off her ebony sword with a nod, sheathing it and striding over to join him in the tent. "You okay?"

Ketar looked up at her from his seat against the wall of the tent and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Just winded." He chuckled softly. "I guess fighting an entire region's worth of enemies, two dragons, and dozens of Chaurus and Falmer will do that. Even to a Dragonborn."

Sera smirked and sat down next to him. "Yeah." She curled one arm around his back, gently rubbing it through the leather armor. "I'll be glad once we have that bow and can get the hell out of here."

He snorted and draped an arm around her shoulders weakly. "That makes two of us."

The air fell silent save for their breathing for almost a full minute.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Ketar asked softly.

She looked up at his inquisitive features and those impossibly deep blue eyes. "I…not much. Just…one foot in front of the other, you know?"

He nodded slowly, laying his head on the wall of the tent and closing his eyes.

"…what are _you_ thinking about?"

Ketar's eyes slid open, staring off into the distance. "Why you won't talk to me about what happened."

Serana stared at him in confusion for a moment before she sighed hard and turned away. "Kay—"

"I said I wouldn't talk about it right then and there. But we're taking a breather now, and—"

"And what? You think _now_ is a good time?"

He threw his unoccupied hand up. "Well it's gotta be sometime, and you seem in quite the hurry to stop Harkon. That won't end when we have Auriel's Bow."

"No, but at least then we can afford to slow down."

"And why not now? Nobody else even knows where to _look_. Especially now that not even _we_ have the Elder Scrolls anymore."

Serana stared at him blankly, words stuck in her throat.

Ketar sighed softly. "Sera…just talk to me. Tell me…something, anything." He pursed his lips hard, gaze boring into hers intensely as his voice lowered to a whisper. "I need to understand."

Serana winced and turned away, staring at the snow-dotted ground and dragging the toe of her boot through it. She felt his other hand land on her unoccupied shoulder, and his arm curl around her more tightly.

"Sera," he whispered intently.

Her glowing eyes squeezed shut, flashing with memories she hadn't even _considered_ in centuries as she let out a long, hissing breath. "I…" A long, hard sigh. "Remember what I told you…before, when we were on our way to Volkihar?"

"About your family?"

"Well…yes, but more specifically, how we became vampires."

"You said the ceremony was degrading, but…didn't elaborate."

Serana frowned and unconsciously shuffled even closer into his embrace, her hands moving his to her midriff and holding them tightly. "Molag Bal is the lord of domination."

"…okay?"

Her jaw tightened. "And I also told you the first vampire wasn't a willing subject."

"…"

She felt him go tense. "Kay?"

"Offered."

Serana blinked. "What?"

"Your mother said…the females were _offered_ to Molag Bal." His tone was dark, darker than when he'd faced down Isran in Fort Dawnguard. "…that means you were—"

"Yes," she interrupted, just loud enough for him to hear.

The tent fell utterly silent.

Serana snorted a humorless laugh. "What? No rage? No screams of bloodlust and oaths of vengeance?"

A brief silence passed before he responded. "That's not funny."

"Wasn't trying to be," she replied in a deadpan.

More silence.

Serana sighed hard. "Needless to say, I don't need your pity, Ketar. Whatever Vingalmo did, I've been through far worse, so it's not like I'm not—"

"Not _what_? Used to it?"

Her eyes widened. _Uh-oh_.

Ketar turned her around so she could see just how quietly furious he was. "You should never, _ever_ get used to being the victim of something so degrading, so _horrific_. You almost sound like it's _commonplace_." His eyes widened as she saw a horrific thought dawn on him. "Did…did Harkon—"

" _No_!" she shouted, taking a few deep breaths. "No. Whatever else he is, he wouldn't…he didn't…" Serana tucked her arms in and hugged herself, looking away. "Just no."

Ketar held her tightly, cheek pressed against her hair. "Okay."

Serana was silent a while, content to let him rock her until she formed the right words. "It's just that…after that ceremony…" she huffed, "everything else just pales in comparison, you know?"

He nodded silently against the side of her head. "Just tell me one thing. Why would you value something that exacted such an unthinkable price from you?"

"You mean my vampirism?"

"Yeah."

Serana frowned at the ground and thought for a moment. "I guess…for the same reason you carry that sword."

"Huh?"

"Think about it. By your own admission, your battle with Alduin claimed a great part of your confidence and dignity, and yet…you forged the Fury from his bones." Her lips pursed. "I guess what I'm saying is…you didn't let it break you, or hold you down. You decided to use those memories to drive you forward, to remind yourself of what you've lost, yes, but also what you gained as a result of that loss. Every time you strap it on, it reminds you of what you've lived through, and what you have yet to do. It reminds you of your purpose."

Ketar breathed deeply a few times before responding. "I suppose. Yes."

She shrugged. "Well, my vampirism is basically the same way, only…I never get to take it off."

He nodded. "Yes. I understand. The question now is…what's _your_ purpose?"

"I guess, for now…" Serana thought for a moment before looking back up at him, "to _find_ my purpose."

Ketar's lips twitched with a smile as he nodded. "Well…until you do," he pulled her into his lap and held her close, "I'll be here, waiting to help however I can."

Sera felt an overwhelming warmth flow from her chest to the far corners of her body, an uncontrollable impulse pushing her closer to him until their lips met, pressing together tenderly. They stayed there for some time, Sera actually managing to get a squeak out of him when she gently nipped and sucked his lower lip before breaking apart with a toothy grin on her face. Ketar just stared at her, completely red-faced and trying unsuccessfully for words.

"Well," she lilted, "I think _I_ just found something you like."

"Sera—"

"Come on," she interrupted, rising to her feet with her hands held out. "Break time's over, Kay."

"But—"

"Come _on_." When he kept hesitating, she smirked and added, "There'll be plenty of time to find out what _else_ you like _after_ we get the bow."

Ketar took her hands and coughed hard, lips trembling with obvious frustration as he followed her out of the tent.

The silence dragged on until they were almost at the cave's exit, and then Serana, feeling a sudden wave of mischief, turned toward him and walked backwards while she asked, "Just out of curiosity, do _all_ of your houses have sturdy headboards?"

The complete tomato blush of his face (and her resulting cackles) finished breaking the somber mood that had been dragging them down all night. And despite the frustration and exasperation she could feel coming from his direction, there was also no small amount of gratitude, even as she took advantage of his disoriented state to lay a wet, smacking kiss on him. Serana and Ketar strode back out into the night side-by-side, with no regrets.

And nothing left to hold them back.

* * *

AN: Man, I am really slow on the draw lately. Though hopefully not so slow that you guys are losing interest. This quest is really, really long, so I'll have one more climactic part for you (might be extra super long) and then we're done with Touching the Sky and moving onto a brief rest period. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I did writing it. I feel like it was a lot of description and action and not a ton of dialogue, which in this story is unusual, but maybe I'm wrong. Either way, this just about bridges the gap between the pilgrimage and the final chapter of this quest.

As you might expect, Durnehviir will play a much greater role story-wise than in the game, so expect to see more of him very soon. I hope you liked the five-way dragon battle. Always wanted to see the "deadly verbal debate" discussed in Skyrim's loading screens. This is probably the closest I'll get (without using cheats on my PC version haha).

Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you stay tuned for more.

 _Oya, vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - Watch the Skies: Durnehviir takes flight/five-way dragon battle/Serana wields the Fury/tackle through the ice

Dragon Language Translation:

" _Zu'u Naaslaarum, ahrk zu fen ni dir med daar_!" - I am Naaslaarum, and I will not die like this!

 _Zeymah_ \- Brother


	17. Touching the Sky, Part III

The whistling of wind through rocky crevices is distinctly different than that of smaller objects flying through the air. More specifically, the whistling of arrows. The fact that Ketar's first sight upon exiting the glacial crevice was a cluster of more Falmer structures was the first red flag. The whistle of incoming arrows was just the icing on the cake.

"Take cover!" he shouted, diving behind a raised platform on his left as Serana leapt for the opposite side of the ravine.

Arrows rained down in threes and fours as Ketar hunkered down and used their trajectories to pinpoint the positions of the shooters. Zephyr expanded to full size with quiet metal clanks as the Dragonborn drew an arrow from his quiver and released a slow breath. The moment there was a lull in the Falmer's shots, he snapped around the corner of the platform and let fly with a metallic twang of the Dwarven bow. The first of three shooters fell from a crudely constructed catwalk up above, the other two following in quick succession as he nocked corresponding arrows faster than they could draw even one.

Ketar marveled at the ease with which Zephyr obeyed his command as he retrieved the unbent arrows from the Falmer corpses on his way past. He didn't see the fourth shooter until he spun around at another whistle, narrowly missing being skewered when Serana threw a kinetic bolt into the shaft of the incoming arrow. Ketar returned one to his attacker a moment later, yanking that arrow out with particular force before turning toward the rest of the ravine.

Serana, meanwhile, was observing the structures around them. "Not the most solid construction. About what I'd expect from...creatures like this. Looks like they're better at making traps than they are at making bridges. A strange race, these Falmer."

Ketar frowned. "Corrupted by time and cruelty. One could say the same about your clan."

Serana shrugged in concession.

Ketar's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the path ahead as he took a breath. " _Laas-Yah-Nir_."

Well over a dozen Falmer signatures showed up in the area ahead, which was honeycombed with huts, catwalks, and tunnels drilled into the rock. The all-too-familiar screech of hostile Falmer reached them from several different sources ahead as Ketar sighed and pulled his hood tighter around his face. He exchanged a single look with Serana before rushing forth into the fray. The metallic grind of Zephyr's bowstring preceded the shriek of a Falmer mage by a split-second as Ketar and Sera took off into a sprint. One ebony arrow after the next streaked toward the corrupted Elves standing between them and Auriel's Bow, and not a single shot went astray.

Serana tackled two Falmer by throwing her body at them horizontally, arms going around one's head while her legs did the same with the other. Two identical snaps came from that direction as Ketar drew back two arrows at once and loosed them into the knees of two incoming Betrayed, tripping them as a mage fired off a lightning spell that glanced off his shoulder pad. With his right hand empty, he was able to charge a ward that absorbed the mage's next attack, then reflected the same energy in plasma form and burnt a hole through the creature's abdomen. His brief distraction with the mage allowed two more Falmer with axes to charge him from the side, one leaping in with an overhead strike.

He sidestepped the overhead and drove a dashing hook into the Falmer's abdomen, then deflected an axe-blow from the second one to the right, driving the metal arm of his bow into its face. Ketar twirled his body as he fell into a crouch, sweeping both Falmer off their feet with his bow, then dropping it in favor of an arrow in his left hand and the Blade of Woe in his right. The two sharp objects gouged large holes in the Falmer's necks before being torn loose, the Blade returned to its sheath and the arrow tossed into his right hand before he retrieved his bow and fired the bloody missile into another archer.

Ketar glanced at Serana to make sure she was still all right before drawing back another arrow and aiming at a hut above him. He channeled magicka into the hand holding the bow, creating a magic cable that tethered him to the arrow, then fired it into a spire sticking out of the hut's roof, the spell reeling him up onto a catwalk that connected two huts. Three arrows were fired in quick succession as more Falmer poured into the ravine, trying to overwhelm Serana with pure force and making themselves easy targets in the process. Frowning, Ketar laid his bow against the side of the hut and ducked down to dodge a thrown knife, then opened the rift and pulled out more arrows, laying them out on the catwalk.

One in particular found its way onto his bowstring and into the central Falmer in a group of four. A massive explosion of fire engulfed all of them the moment it landed, the central one blown to ashy bits while the others writhed around in pain for a few moments before falling over dead. The pale moonlight illuminated Serana as she charged toward their surging ranks, tackling one and using it as a battering ram to lay out four more of them. Ketar arched an eyebrow and shrugged with a hum of approval, then retrieved the arrow in the hut's spire and fired it with another tether linking the catwalk to the rock floor below.

The other arrows he'd taken from the rift found themselves in his quiver a moment before he leapt toward the magical cable, using the hooked end of the bow's upper arm to zip-line down to ground level. He hit the ground with a falling cross to an armored Falmer who'd snuck up behind Serana, bowling it over and slamming it in the head with his bow. Two Betrayed lunged toward him with swords and hammers, one with a shield that deflected his first bow strike. He kicked the unshielded one in the gut, then twisted his body and spun clockwise in a corkscrew kick to the other one's shield, knocking it back several steps and throwing it off-balance.

The Falmer fell to one knee as Ketar pulled an arrow from his quiver and sprinted toward it, running up its shield and leaping off in a twist-flip. He nocked and fired the arrow midair, using his target's off-balance position to nail it in the back of the neck. He landed in a deep crouch and fired another arrow as soon as he settled, scoring a hit on one of the Falmer clashing with Serana and crippling its sword arm. She finished it with a devastating kick that snapped its head hard to one side and slashed her Elven dagger through another's neck to bring down the last of the creatures assaulting her.

A vicious snarl from above heralded the entrance of a particularly large armored Falmer, which leapt down from a catwalk about two stories up and landed with an impact that actually managed to shake the ground.

Ketar arched an eyebrow at the creature. "Well…you're big." He smirked and drew another arrow from his quiver. "I've killed bigger."

The arrow was released right into its left shoulder, but the armor it was wearing was apparently enough to divert it from its target, because the blasted thing kept coming. It wasn't bearing any weapons either, only two metal or chitin cesti on its arms, with two spikes at the end of each gauntlet that looked suspiciously like Chaurus mandibles. Serana intercepted it from the side, slamming her shoulder into its lower ribs and knocking it into the side of a hut. It sprang up immediately and sent several rapid jabs her way, which she dodged with ease. Ketar came in from its other side, forced to hold his bow up to block a hook and counter with a shin-kick to the side of its knee.

The Falmer barely twitched before coming back at him with a flurry of blows that made audible whooshes through the air. They exchanged hits one after another, the spikes coming dangerously close to Ketar once or twice until Serana lunged in from the opposite side and drove her dagger into its back. The armor again diverted her attack, so instead of severing its spine, she merely stuck a seven-inch metal spike into the meat of its back. It elbowed her off in rage, then lunged toward Ketar with both hands, his bow used as a brace to hold back its cesti as he practically bench-pressed its entire body weight.

Once he got it just far enough away, he thrust-kicked it off and rapidly unloaded three arrows, one in each eye socket of its helmet and one dead-center. It went down for good this time. A few hard, rapid breaths were heard from each of them before they verified that the last of the Falmer had been eliminated.

Ketar strode up to Serana as he collapsed Zephyr. "You okay?"

She nodded slowly, poking at her clothes. "Just lamenting the holes Vingalmo's men made in my armor."

He frowned and inspected the one at her shoulder, pursing his lips tightly. "Hang on. I might have something." Ketar opened the rift and retrieved the male-patterned royal armor he'd found in Volkihar. "You said it was based on the same design, so if you use the tunic—"

"I could mend the armor. Good thinking." She took it from him briefly before wincing and handing it back. "Later. With all the dangers ahead of us, something tells me it'll see a bit more damage before we're done."

He nodded slowly. "You got it."

The armor was returned to the rift, and they were off again, traversing some more rocky, rough terrain before coming to a long tunnel that sloped upward. A brief flash of tan at his feet prompted Ketar to stop and kneel down, heart jumping when he recognized a trip-wire and cautiously stepped around it. A massive boulder at the top of the tunnel was likewise stepped around, and he let out a breath of relief once they were past the trap. On the other side of the rock was a distinctly familiar source of light, the pair proceeding forward until they came upon the final wayshrine. Its prelate stepped toward them like the others, coming to a stop and eyeing Ketar carefully.

"You've found the Wayshrine of Radiance, Initiate. Are you prepared to honor the mantras of Auri-El and fill your vessel with His enlightenment?"

With a final nod, Ketar said, "I am."

The ghost smiled. "Then may the blessings of Auri-El protect you as you climb the road to the Inner Sanctum and final enlightenment. May Auri-El's radiance fill your heart with joy."

The prelate vanished, permitting them to proceed toward the rising shrine and fill the ewer with the last bit of water. Seeing only one path forward, they strode toward a network of Falmer-constructed bridges and ramps that led up toward a mountain peak. Their trek brought them to a long, ornate bridge adorned on either side with arches bearing the same sun crest as the wayshrines. The crossing was…well, cold. Completely exposed on either side, they had no protection from the icy wind, and since it was now snowing as well, Ketar couldn't wait to get into the Chantry and out of the open. When they reached the other side, a set of stone stairs led up through a gate in a wall of the same alabaster stone that comprised the bridge and into a large courtyard.

"This has to be the place," said Serana. "I've never seen a building like that before. It looks like some kind of temple."

Ketar nodded. "The Inner Sanctum Gelebor mentioned, most likely."

Sera pointed at something just ahead. "That's a statue of Auriel, but it's using the older signs of his power. This temple must be _ancient_."

In the center of the courtyard was a massive platinum statue of Auri-El, with a sun sigil suspended over his head by two struts on his shoulders and two curved sets of stairs flanking him on either side. Bearing the visage of a mortal, the crowned Auriel had both his hands stretched out and wore a familiar set of armor—dragonplate, as point of fact. Ketar snorted a small laugh at that, then headed for the stairs, which led up to a platform with a set of double-doors at one end and an empty basin at the other. Ketar opened the rift and summoned the Initiate's Ewer, grunting a bit at how heavy it had become, then exchanging a look with Serana.

"Well," she said, "time to see if this even works."

Ketar snorted. "I've had about enough of this place. If it doesn't work, I'll blow the doors down myself."

"Or phase through."

"…well, I guess that works too." Ketar took a deep breath, then began to pour the ewer's contents into the basin. "Here goes."

Even as the basin filled with water, it began leaking out through the base of the pedestal it was situated on and into a series of inclined troughs that led toward the door. Ketar and Serana followed the water's flow, noting that the three troughs curved around and emptied into a sun symbol carved into the floor before the door. The moment that symbol was filled with water, an exact amount, it began to glow seemingly from within, sending a beam of what looked like sunlight toward the sky. The sun-shaped lock over the door began to turn clockwise, slowing to a stop and clicking apart into two door-handles.

"Well I'll be," said Serana.

"They may have submitted to them, but the Falmer were definitely not the Dwemer's inferiors when it came to magical construction."

"Pity that knowledge likely died with their sight."

Ketar frowned. "Yeah. Though that tome we found might have some of those secrets within."

"Something to investigate later, I think."

He nodded. "Agreed." He took one handle while Sera grabbed the other, free hand on his sword. "Ready?"

Serana nodded, and together they pulled the doors outward.

…

Based on what she'd seen outside, Serana had anticipated that stepping into the Chantry proper would be a much different experience. What they found instead was…

"Wrong," she half-whispered.

Ketar snapped toward her. "What?"

"This is wrong. This whole place feels off."

He frowned. "Like an open wound."

Serana nodded.

The first hallway they came upon after entering the Chantry had a single occupant—a Falmer, frozen solid and coated in a thick sheet of ice. It looked and felt like someone compounded the worst sixteen ice storms in Skyrim's history and threw them into the building.

Ketar slowly drew his sword as they proceeded further inside. "Remember Ruunvald? When we went to retrieve Florentius?"

"Yeah, why?"

His jaw clenched. "It feels just like that. Such a heavy magical resonance in the air I can almost _taste_ it."

They turned a corner and proceeded to gape at the scene presented to them: a large, open room supported by various stone columns, with frozen Falmer and Chaurus strewn about, a great many of them circled around a larger replica of the altar Gelebor had at his camp.

Serana also drew her sword, eyeing the Falmer cautiously. "What do you think caused it?"

"Can't say. Something _immensely_ powerful, that's for sure. Last time, it was the Staff of Ruunvald."

"So an artifact of some sort?"

"And given we're dealing with Snow Elves, probably an ancient one."

"Great. As if we didn't have enough problems."

Ketar's lips pursed as they approached the altar, passing his empty hand in front of several Falmer's faces. "If I had to guess, Vyrthur had something to do with this."

"Before or after the Betrayed corrupted him?"

"If this was meant as a defense mechanism? Probably before."

Serana nodded, shivering when she turned around to find a frozen Falmer staring directly at her. "Sheesh. And I thought the Soul Cairn was creepy."

"Yeah…let's keep moving."

They strode through one hall after the next in eerie, unsettling silence, pushing open a set of double-doors and reaching another large room with more frozen Falmer.

Serana kept eyeing the suspended creatures. "You know that feeling when you walk past a bunch of statues that are a bit _too_ realistic? Like they're about to come to life any second? That's how I feel right now, but…times ten."

Ketar chuckled softly. "And to think a few weeks ago you mocked me for being wary of those statues on Volkihar Island."

She shot him a look. "I didn't know you then, Kay."

He sent a wry smile in her direction as he inspected the room. "True, but then most people take a lot more than a month to truly know each other…if you get my drift."

Serana snorted. "Most people don't live around each other basically twenty-four seven for that month."

"True," he admitted, approaching a sun-shaped pedestal flanked by two magical braziers.

Ketar's head cocked for a moment before he summoned the Initiate's Ewer from the rift and gingerly placed it on the pedestal. Immediately, the wall adjacent to the pedestal, which bore the same symbol, slid upward, revealing a gateway into another hallway with a skeleton and not much else. At the end of the hallway was another set of double-doors. He came to an abrupt stop when he reached the other side. Serana found out why a second after catching up with him. Nearly twice the size of a normal giant, with giant curved horns sticking out of its head and shaggy white fur over its body, was a mythical frost giant.

The four-eyed creature didn't seem like it spotted them, so Serana very quietly stepped behind a pillar and out of its line of sight, followed closely by Ketar.

She looked to him and whispered, "Plan of attack?"

Ketar's lips pursed. "Most giants aren't hostile by nature. If we leave it alone, it might do the same for us."

She gave him a look.

"What? If I wanted to pick a fight with every non-humanoid creature we came across, I'd have killed those sabre cats in the Vale. "

Serana sighed, conceding the point. "Then I guess I'll…follow your lead."

Ketar smiled briefly before cautiously proceeding away from the pillar, directly into the four-eyed sights of the giant. It bared its teeth and growled, tightening its grip around a large bludgeon and eyeing the sword in his hand carefully. He slowly brought the weapon up to his back and slid it into its sheath, hands held up. Serana reluctantly did the same, and slowly but surely, the giant's hackles lowered. It still eyed them suspiciously, but didn't lunge forward and attempt to crush them.

Without turning to her, Ketar spoke to Serana. "Go get the ewer back. Something tells me there are other doors like that one, and we'll need it to open them."

She nodded, taking a cautious step back toward the hallway they'd just exited. "Sure. Just…" she exhaled hard, "stay safe."

"Yep."

Serana picked up the pace and retrieved the ewer, pulling back through the door before it closed and returning to Ketar without incident. He finally looked to her when she handed him the jug, returning it to the rift and catching the creature's attention in the process. It stared at him and cocked its head curiously, but remained where it was, even laying its bludgeon against a nearby pillar and sitting down to sniff at them.

"Uh…what's it doing?" Serana asked.

Ketar shrugged. "Not a clue. But we're leaving now."

He cautiously turned toward another hallway at his side, Serana following behind and giving the giant one last look before moving on.

…

If the Snow Elves' intention in building this place had been to confuse the hell out of their initiates, Ketar had to admit, they did an excellent job of it. The Inner Sanctum was a bloody maze of gates, hallways, and magical doors. It took three more ewer-activated doors to find the one that led deeper into the Chantry. For all that, he made very sure not to touch a single frozen Falmer or Chaurus. Serana had been right about one thing: those things were entirely too lifelike to mess with, even if some of them were clutching potions, weapons, or other valuables. If he didn't know that the calamity that caused this had occurred after the Chantry fell, he'd have guessed it was a test for the Initiates, to see if their greed would get the better of them and put them in danger.

Either way, he didn't go anywhere near them and made sure Serana did the same, not that she needed much encouragement. When they reached the necessary door to proceed deeper, they found themselves in an already-narrow corridor made narrower by the presence of a massive glacial formation. An unmistakable and irrepressible twitch came to his fingers.

Ketar frowned. "The magical resonance is much stronger here. If I had to guess, we're nearing the source of the storm."

"Vyrthur."

He nodded. "That'd be my guess." Dragonborn's Fury left its sheath as he pressed forward. "Stay frosty," he added with a wink.

Serana rolled her eyes and gave him a deadpan look. "Really?"

He just gave her a cheeky grin and pressed on through the gap. They strode down the frozen-over hallway and reached a sudden drop, where it looked like part of the temple had collapsed. Frowning, Ketar leapt down and landed in a crouch, making his way toward the only path left: a leaning hallway with partially collapsed bits all along its length. He could just make out another frozen Falmer at the end, in a room that looked well-lit compared to the rest of the temple. Waving Serana forward, Ketar cautiously made his way forward and entered what looked like a chapel, filled with more frozen Falmer and Chaurus and patterned closely off of what one might find in the Temple of the One in Imperial City.

With a deathly pale figure sitting in an elevated throne at the far end.

Ketar squared up with him, narrowing his eyes at the lounging Elf and the way his piercing gaze barely flickered over him before turning to Serana. He sheathed Dragonborn's Fury and cocked his head slightly. "Arch-Curate Vyrthur, I presume?"

With what looked like some effort, the Elf dragged his gaze back to Ketar and snorted derisively. "And you are?"

"Ketar Niel Dov," he said. "I've come for—"

"Auriel's Bow, yes," Vyrthur interrupted in a bored tone. He scoffed. "Did you fools really believe you would just walk in here and claim it?" His…unusually sharp teeth bared in a smile. "You've done exactly as I predicted and brought your fetching companion to me."

Ketar's blood went cold as Serana came up beside him.

"Wait," she said, "is he talking about me?"

"Which," Vyrthur continued with a laugh, "I'm sorry to say, means _your_ usefulness is at an end!"

To their left and right, telltale cracks were heard, the frozen creatures' icy outer skin starting to break. Ketar's sword left its sheath before even the first of them broke free, one frozen Falmer losing its head with a single swing, the rest of its body shattering as the rest finally regained their mobility. Serana's dagger left its sheath with a twirl, slashing through the arm of another Falmer as it tried to take a swing at her, then cleaving it in two when she cut across its chest. The dagger was flipped into her off-hand to free up her main to draw her sword and parry two vertical blows from corresponding Falmer.

Ketar dashed in behind them and slashed his blade across their backs, making deep gashes that split their spines and caused them to collapse, which shattered them the rest of the way. Two frozen Chaurus charged toward them from across the room, spitting globs of poison that Ketar ducked around, preparing and unleashing a sustained fire spell from his left hand and using the Fury's sapphire as his focus. The effect was essentially to boil the Chaurus in their half-frozen shells. Or, it would've been if the extreme temperature difference between their cooled outer shell and the searing heat hadn't caused an explosive reaction that shattered them.

Serana ducked and twisted around two more Falmer, deftly dispatching them before coming to a stop and making sure there was nothing else moving, though there were still more frozen Falmer and Chaurus scattered about the chapel.

"Well," Serana said as she smiled viciously, "that's a neat trick. Here's one of mine."

She sheathed both her weapons and charged dual kinetic bolts, firing them toward opposite sides of the room and shattering one creature after the next before he had time to wake them. Ketar stared at her, impressed, and looked back to Vyrthur to see his reaction. His blood went cold when the Snow Elf merely chuckled and started clapping.

"An impressive display," he said, "but a wasted effort. You delay nothing but your own deaths!"

Vyrthur waved his hands, which glowed with a pale white light as he motioned toward the roof. The sounds of ice cracking filled the chapel's otherwise still air.

Serana's eyes went wide in alarm. "Watch out! He's pulling down the ceiling!"

Massive icicles easily the size of his body speared toward them by the dozen, shattering against the ground as Ketar rolled behind a pillar and Serana fell into an intricate series of tumbles to get away. She finished with a dexterous twist-flip that landed her in a coiled crouch, ready to move at the drop of a pin.

"Finish them!" Vyrthur roared, though to whom they didn't know until the passage from which they'd entered filled with movement.

More Falmer and Chaurus came through, though this time not the belly-crawling annoyances—two hunters joined the fray, their wings filling the air with an ominous buzz as they homed in on the pair.

Ketar looked to Serana. "Handle the Falmer! My blade can pierce armor better than yours."

She gave him a nod, then split off to take on half a dozen Betrayed at once while the Chaurus Hunters zeroed in on Ketar from opposite sides. His dark blue eyes narrowed as he fell into a deep stance and braced his sword at his side, tip-out.

 _You're more intelligent than your pedestrian cousins, aren't you?_

The one on his right came in first, with a whip of its poisonous tail that narrowly missed his head when he ducked. The other one pounced immediately, lunging with its clawed forelegs and again missing when Ketar rolled to the right and twisted to meet them even as the first one charged for him again. He swung for it with a quick slice, surprised when the black dragonbone pinged off the creature's forelegs when it brought them up to protect its head. It was like the ends of the digitigrade appendages had hardened into a steel-hard chitin material.

 _So their metamorphosis basically gives them axes for legs. Greeeeat._

They charged forward together, attacking in quick succession, in a form of coordination he had never seen before with Chaurus. Ketar braced his left hand against the flat edge of his blade while his right stayed on the hilt, using the width of the sword as a sort of buckler against their attacks while he came up with a plan. He swiped one of their claw strikes off to the side, countering with a stab at its underbelly that just managed to pierce the first few layers of skin. The hunter backpedaled as its brother came in to give it cover, Ketar angling his body between them and taking a breath.

" _Wuld_!"

As fast as his voice carried, he sped past them, twirling around and charging back in before they could recover. He leapt toward the uninjured Chaurus, using a collapsed pillar as a springboard to get just the right angle to cut its rapidly-beating wings in half, then come down on the other one's neck with an overhead strike as he fell. Dragonborn's Fury cleaved the wretched thing's head straight off, and he quickly spun around to thrust his blade down the other one's throat when it leapt for him using its hind legs, almost up to the hilt. Grimacing in disgust, he pushed the carcass off his blade with his left boot and shook the gore off into the stone floor, then ran back to rejoin Serana, who was just finishing the last of the Falmer.

For the first time in their confrontation, Vyrthur actually looked nervous, and not a small bit furious. "This has gone on long enough," he snarled. "Child, my life ended long before you were born!"

Ketar exchanged a look with Serana, then turned back to Vyrthur as he rose from his throne and cast a spell between himself and them. A familiar portal of dark violet energy flared up for a moment before a massive Frost Atronach emerged from its depths, at least twice the size of any he'd ever seen before.

And far faster than anything that big had any right to be.

So fast, in fact, that despite Ketar's best efforts, the thing still clipped him in the shoulder on its first charge. Its drill-like right arm swung for him, barely missing when he ducked just in time, but cleaving through a support pillar that sent more chunks of ice and stone spearing down toward him. Ketar dove away from the debris, Serana catapulting herself into the Atronach to slow it down and finding herself cast back against another pillar, leaving behind a visible dent. Kay snarled and sheathed his sword, putting his hands together and charging a spell that filled the magic-laden air with crackles of power.

A furious cry built in his chest as the spell neared its peak, released as the Atronach charged him drill-first—along with a massive, nearly room-spanning explosion of white-hot fire that blew the icy Daedra's legs clean off. It crawled toward him with its arms, lashing out with its drill arm, but Ketar easily sidestepped it and cleaved the appendage clean off with the first draw of his sword. Bringing the blade in the other direction, its crystalline, conical head was removed a second later with a massive underhanded swing, the scowl never leaving Ketar's face as he stalked toward Serana's dazed form.

He offered her his left hand and hauled her to her feet as she shook herself off.

"You all right?" he asked softly, voice still hard with rage.

She looked up at him, then down at herself and back, then nodded.

They both turned to Vyrthur, who by now was staring at them agape—more at Ketar than Serana this time. Apparently, he'd shown enough of his power to earn the corrupted Snow Elf's attention. The thought brought a malevolent smile to his face.

"No," Vyrthur snarled, "I won't let you ruin centuries of preparations..."

Serana stepped forward, shouting, "Surrender and give us the bow!"

Vyrthur bared his teeth. "Death first!"

The deranged Falmer brought his hands together and, with a flare of blue light, began preparing a spell. Ketar and Serana moved to stop him, but Kay's blood went cold and hairs stood on end when he felt every single scrap of magic in the air vanish—and go into Vyrthur, who was grinning like a demon.

Ketar barely had time to widen his eyes before the entire chapel _exploded_.

…

Despite his characteristic chivalry, Serana's first instinct upon seeing the building's walls begin to shatter was to throw herself between Ketar and the closest debris. And a good thing too, because the impact of her body hitting his threw them both out of the way of a fragmented support pillar that would've shredded iron. The ground-shaking rumbles of the volatile spell began to die down as Serana brought her head up to see Vyrthur leaving his throne for a balcony even further off. She looked down at the now-unhooded Ketar to see him blinking up at her, a dazed look on his face as it reddened (no doubt at their close proximity).

Serana smirked and drew her index across his jaw. "Later, handsome. I know I'm far more pleasant to think about, but Vyrthur needs our focus right now."

Ketar gulped and coughed hard, accepting her help upright and dusting himself off as he retrieved his fallen sword and twirled it. "Let's finish this."

She nodded and took the lead toward a set of stairs that led up to an open courtyard with the final wayshrine and two sets of stairs that sloped up into a balcony hanging off the side of the mountain. They found Vyrthur at the top, clutching a bloody gash in his right arm and staring out at the pre-dawn vista of the Vale. His head turned to look over his shoulder at their approach, each taking a separate set of stairs to reach him.

Serana exchanged a look with Ketar before facing Vyrthur. "Enough, Vyrthur. Give us the bow."

In response, he chuckled and slowly turned to face her, a snarl on his pale features. "How dare you. I was the Arch-Curate of Auri-El, girl. I had the ears of a god!"

She rolled her eyes. "Until the 'Betrayed' corrupted you. Yes, yes. We've heard this sad story."

Vyrthur started outright cackling.

Ketar glanced at Serana. "That's never a good sign."

The Snow Elf bared his teeth again. "Gelebor and his kind are easily manipulated fools." He approached Serana, smiling down at her. "Look into my eyes, Serana. You tell me what I am."

The cold feeling she'd experienced when Gelebor mentioned Vyrthur's behavior returned three times as strong as she stared at him. Realization struck full-force a moment later, her jaw dropping in shock. "You're…you're a vampire. But Auriel should have protected you..."

She felt Ketar tense at her side upon saying this.

Vyrthur snarled. "The moment I was infected by one of my own Initiates, Auri-El turned his back on me. I swore I'd have my revenge, no matter what the cost."

Ketar arched an unimpressed eyebrow at him, neck-length hair flapping in the wind (quite attractively, as Serana mentally noted). "You want to take revenge...on a god?" He laughed. "Good luck with that."

Vyrthur smirked. "Scoff all you want. Auri-El himself may have been beyond my reach, but his influence on our world wasn't. All I needed was the blood of a vampire and his own weapon, Auriel's Bow."

Ketar's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. Blood…Auriel's Bow…"

Serana gaped. "It was you," she exhaled.

Vyrthur turned to her.

"You created that prophecy?" she asked, fire slowly building in her blood.

The vampiric Snow Elf grinned. "A prophecy that lacked a single, final ingredient...the blood of a pure vampire. The blood of a Daughter of Coldharbour."

"You were waiting...all this time for someone with my blood to come along." Serana caught Ketar's sympathetic glance at this, but all she could feel was anger. "Well…" her upper lip twitched, "too bad for you…" she grabbed Vyrthur by the collar of his armor, "I intend on _keeping_ it!" Serana bared her fangs and snarled viciously. "Do you have any idea what you've already done to me?! To my family?! You _destroyed_ us! And for _what_?! Some vindictive scheme to take vengeance for an ill that could _easily_ have been cured?!" She held him up with one hand while the other drew her dagger underhanded. "Let's see if _your_ blood has any power to it!"

She thrust the dagger toward his heart, but only got halfway there when his entire body flared with magic—sun magic. Apparently he'd retained some of his Arch-Curate abilities even after turning into a vampire, because the explosion of sunlight—in the middle of the night—laid her out flat on her back and left her crying out at the first few layers of flesh being burned from her face.

…

"Serana!" Ketar screamed, looking at her for a moment before turning to Vyrthur and gritting his teeth. His voice lowered to a growl as he slowly drew Dragonborn's Fury. "You will pay for that."

Vyrthur smirked. "We shall see, little mage."

Ketar laughed sardonically and twirled his blade. "You're not that much taller than me."

Before the vampire could either respond or glare at him too hard, Ketar lunged forward into a stab at his midsection, the blow dodged with inhuman speed as Vyrthur cartwheeled away, landing on the rail between the courtyard and the balcony and baring his teeth in an animalistic grin. His hands glowed with violet energy, and Ketar growled as he summoned yet another Frost Atronach, this one considerably smaller, which took a swipe at him as soon as it solidified. Ketar braced the flat edge of his blade against the blow and charged toward the Atronach, the drill arm skidding off his sword until he was behind its elbow. He then swung the Fury diagonally up and right, the impossibly sharp blade effectively bisecting the Daedra from hip to shoulder and revealing Vyrthur on the other side, with a charged spell already at the ready.

In a flash of alarm, Ketar brought his sword up into a guard position and summoned a magic ward using its sapphire as a focus. A massive ice spear came from Vyrthur's hands a split-second after it partially solidified, half of the shard breaking off against and shattering the ward while the other half came through and lanced through his right shoulder. Ketar screamed in agony as he stumbled back toward the edge of the balcony, Vyrthur dismounting the rail and stalking toward him with a cruel glint in his eyes. Kay desperately held onto his sword, vision flashing with red and black spots as the ice shard seemed to dig itself even deeper into his flesh. It took him a few moments to realize that was _exactly_ what it was doing, the part of it that was inside him growing new crystals and expanding into the meat of his shoulder.

Blinding agony flashed through his body, robbing him of breath and forcing him down to one knee as he dropped Dragonborn's Fury. His nearly-unseeing eyes cast about for anything that could help him turn the tide, but all he could see was the corrupted Arch-Curate advancing on him. The Elf's hands flared with magic, eyes blazing with unholy fire as Ketar desperately tried to summon his magic. The ice in his shoulder expanded further, breaking his concentration and removing that option from the table as Vyrthur drew his hands back.

"Gelebor chose well this time…"

Vyrthur's hands thrust forward, emitting a constant stream of cold that slowly but surely encased Ketar's entire body in ice.

…

"…but even _you_ are nothing before me."

Serana's left hand clutched her face, pressing snow from a nearby rail against her burnt-off flesh and staring helplessly as Vyrthur froze her paramour solid. Her breathing rapidly accelerated as she felt a massive pain that had nothing to do with the damage to her face, forcing herself upright and using the rail to assist herself. Vyrthur drew an Elven dagger from his belt, lazily twirling it in his hand and tilting his head at Ketar's frozen form. Serana's eyes stung and watered over as her breathing became even more labored, pain and grief warring with an impossibly hot rage. All of that ground to an abrupt stop when she heard it.

 _Thump-thump._

Glowing, sunset-colored eyes widened.

 _Thump-thump._

Her hand dipped to her belt as Vyrthur flipped his dagger to an underhanded position.

 _Thump-thump._

She hauled herself upright and coiled up for a spring as the Arch-Curate drew his dagger back and prepared to thrust it down hard, like an ice pick.

 _Thump-thump_.

A loud, metallic clash filled the cold air of the chapel balcony, faint, pale starlight shining down on white alabaster stone. The first hints of dawn began to peek over the horizon as Serana grit her teeth and snarled up at Vyrthur, her dagger caught on his and keeping it from shattering Ketar's body. With a growl of rage, she pushed up and shoved him so hard, he flew back into the opposing rail.

Serana didn't let up for a second.

She charged toward him and slashed rapidly with her dagger, the Elf nimbly dodging and deflecting her attacks as she practically chased him across the balcony. A block of a falling diagonal strike left Vyrthur exposed to a gut punch, which then left him vulnerable to being grabbed and thrown against a rail. Serana locked his dagger arm in place with hers, then laid into him with several vicious left hooks to the ribs. She grabbed him by the collar and threw him again, this time into the courtyard. He rolled on contact with the stones, whirling to face her as she leapt from the balcony and fell toward him with a falling stab.

Vyrthur withdrew and spun to his left, attempting to cleave her head off with his dagger but finding only empty air as Serana ducked and used her lower stance to lunge toward his chest with a stab. He smacked her hand away and countered with an underhanded swipe at her neck she leaned her head away from. The blade missed her skin by centimeters, and she countered with a lightning-fast jab to his nose, followed by a grab of his knife-arm's elbow and knee to the lower ribs. She yelped as Vyrthur shin-kicked her in the right knee, then used her recoil to elbow her in the jaw with the arm she'd just been holding. A backhanded slash at her chest tore a gash through her already-perforated chestplate, scoring a thin line on the skin underneath as she lunged away from him.

The pain barely registered with the immense, vengeful rage burning in her blood, and she flipped her dagger to an underhanded position as she fell into a deep stance, waving it back and forth threateningly. They paced in a circle around the courtyard, the two immortals sizing each other up.

Vyrthur was the first to speak. "Your face—" his eyes widened in shock, "—you're…completely regenerated. _How_? The spell I used should've kept you in agony for _hours_!"

Serana smiled viciously. "Guess you underestimated the power of the pure blood you so desire." She bared her fangs. "And rage is one hell of an anesthetic."

She dashed forward and swiped at him several times, always coming close but never quite landing. A rapid flip of her dagger and following thrust at his chest was sidestepped, her forward momentum used to throw her in that direction and slash at her back. She kept her momentum going, falling into a roll away from the strike and spinning to face him again.

Vyrthur was still trying to work it out. "No…I designed that spell specifically to disable creatures like you. Not to kill you…I still need your blood…but you should still have been incapacitated." He took a crouched stance, blade held out aggressively. "How are you even _moving_?"

His certainty even managed to get _Serana_ curious, and with a single, slow heartbeat in the periphery of her attention, she had her answer. "Dragon blood."

Vyrthur's eyes widened. "What?"

Serana grinned and began laughing. "Ketar, you beautiful man!" She grinned, all teeth, and held her dagger at her side. "The man you so blithely cast aside as insignificant? He's Dragonborn. The _Last_ Dragonborn."

Vyrthur's jaw dropped as nervousness took over his features.

Serana just smiled wider. "And because he cares for _me_ , and not just my power, his blood now flows through my veins." A suspicion of hers was confirmed when Vyrthur's face flashed with genuine fear. "Pity you didn't know that before you put him on ice." She kept smiling, eyes shining with confidence as she sheathed her dagger. "Might've made this fight remotely even."

A well of dark power surged within her as a cloak of pure midnight wrapped itself around her, her transformed body emerging from the darkness with a lunge at Vyrthur's throat. Only a reflexive slash that tore a gash in her right forearm prevented him from being slashed open on the spot. Still didn't help him when Serana picked him up off the ground, flew twenty feet straight up, and threw him back down, his body breaking through a thin half-column that was still standing. A deep, almost frightening glee surged through her blood as she focused her full attention on reducing Vyrthur to sopping bloody shreds.

…

 _"Wake up."_

The words drifted through his mind like whispers on the wind, nudging at the edges of his consciousness so gently, he mistook them for fragments of a half-remembered dream.

 _"Wake up, son."_

He groaned internally, hard, wondering why someone had yanked the blankets off him. He shouldn't have been this cold. He would've made sure the fire kept burning all night…

 _"Wake up!"_

The harsh yell echoed through his consciousness, shocking him into action, but the only motion that occurred was with his mouth and throat.

" _Yol-Toor-Shul_!"

A massive blast of pure heat cleared away the space in front of Ketar's head, the heat rapidly spreading around his entire body and superheating the icy cocoon until he flexed his arms and thrust them outward. The icy skin encasing his injured form shattered into a billion pieces, several gasps of air rapidly filling his lungs as he reoriented himself. His vision was still black a few seconds in, but his hearing was just fine, so the shouts of anger and struggle coming from the direction of the courtyard were clear as day. Two distinct voices were heard coming from several points in his immediate surroundings: Vyrthur, who sounded more than a bit stressed, and Serana, who just sounded pissed off—and transformed.

That alone was enough to get him to speed up the rate at which he was shaking himself off. Enough of his vision returned to see the silhouettes of two figures, moving faster than any mortal ever could and practically flying across the courtyard. Ketar shook his head rapidly, clearing out the last of his blurry vision, and catching sight of something that instantly caused his jaw to drop: Serana, in full vampire lord form, throwing Vyrthur clear across the courtyard, his impact slamming him back-first into a stone rail and caving it in partway. Seeing that he'd nearly fallen off the cliff, Vyrthur dove toward the wayshrine, leaping from the balcony and making a midair swing for a charging Serana.

Screaming in fury, Sera caught the dagger by the blade—no doubt quite painfully—with her left hand, and the other was used to gouge five finger-sized holes in Vyrthur's gut, then throw him to the ground with that point of contact. Ketar's dark blue eyes widened.

 _I've…never seen her so vicious._ Ever _. She's been angry before, but…this is a full-on_ blood rage _._

Hissing in pain at the hole in his shoulder, Ketar applied a healing spell to the injury, his body's natural regenerative abilities making the process go even faster—though not hurt any less—as his flesh rapidly knitted itself back together. He looked up to see Serana laying into Vyrthur with her claws, slashing away and rending his armor to bloodstained shreds of metal. By the time Ketar was able to stand, she'd nearly torn his entire torso to pieces. He lunged for the rail between him and the courtyard, eyes wide in near panic as she dug all ten of her claws into his chest.

"Serana!"

Suddenly, she came to a stop, turning her head to look up at him with wide, glowing eyes. They stared at each other for a few moments before something in Serana's face shifted, and she slowly looked back down at Vyrthur. Ketar felt a sharp tug in his chest.

 _Those eyes…_

Unnatural and inhuman? Certainly, but her eyes had to have been the most expressive he'd ever seen—and he saw horror in them now. Serana visibly gulped as she retracted her claws and took a step back from Vyrthur's eviscerated form, eyeing Ketar as he limped his way down the stairs, one hand pressed to the still-healing wound in his shoulder. Vyrthur was gulping and gasping for air as he writhed around on the ground, his body struggling to regenerate as he tried to claw himself away from the vampire lord. Serana, for her part, shifted back down to her human form, which made her horrified expression all the more visible as Ketar approached Vyrthur's other side. As soon as the Arch-Curate caught sight of him, Ketar saw his features twist in despair.

It was almost pitiable to see. Almost.

After what he'd unwittingly done to Serana's family—and probably enthralled the Betrayed to wipe out his own Chantry—this monster deserved no pity.

Serana, on the other hand, was looking at Ketar with a mix of relief and self-disgust. "Kay, I—"

He held up a hand to stop her. They'd talk about it later, but for now, Vyrthur had to remain their priority. He did, however, throw her a small, reassuring smile. She _had_ to know he didn't blame her for it. When he turned to Vyrthur, though, a cold, vindictive fury began to burn in his veins, and it showed on his face even as he cocked his head to one side.

"Now what are we going to do with you?" he asked sarcastically.

Vyrthur couldn't even hope to reply—probably because of a punctured lung or two.

So Ketar turned to Serana instead. "Know what I think?"

She didn't reply, but in her frame of mind, he hadn't really expected her to.

His gaze returned to the Arch-Curate, a small, malevolent smile coming to his lips as he began nodding slowly. "I think if you want to take revenge on Auriel…" His eyes flickered to Serana with a nod at Vyrthur.

Vyrthur's eyes went wide in confusion as Serana grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him half-upright. Ketar took a few steps off to the side, between them and the wayshrine, then took a deep breath and focused his magic. His hands linked together by the fingers, then broke apart, left going up, right down, then in opposing circular motions as the golden sundial of his rift formed, bigger than usual this time.

"…you should give it your best shot."

Apparently, Vyrthur recognized Ketar's magic, as he began panicking and trying to escape. Serana wasn't having any of it. She flipped him horizontal and spun around 360 degrees, throwing him bodily through the portal. Ketar winced at the sudden weight that came down on his shoulders, then gasped in relief as he closed the rift, collapsing to his knees with labored breaths. Serana was at his side in moments, with a firm hand on his shoulder and another gently rubbing his back.

"Kay?" she asked softly. "Are you—"

He gripped the hand on his shoulder and nodded. "Yeah." Ketar smiled up at her. "I'm all right."

The red light of dawn began to peek over the mountains' edge as Serana helped Ketar to his feet. He made sure to hold her hand a little longer and tighter than necessary, then pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed the crown of her head. He could feel her body tense in his grasp, but slowly relax as she held him back, burying her face in his chest. He held her there, gently rocking from side to side as he heard quiet footsteps approaching from behind and craned his neck to see Gelebor approaching. Ketar felt a small sob shake her body and immediately shook his head at the Elf. The paladin stopped short and pursed his lips, nodding slightly. Ketar sent him a grateful smile, then refocused his attention on the tortured woman in his arms.

They stayed there until well after dawn.

* * *

AN: I got my release time gap down from two weeks to one. Yay! Good news, dear readers: I FOUND A JOB. And I know you might think that means you'll be seeing less of me, but I assure you, it's quite the opposite. As all of you adults know, job searching is a painful, tedious, soul-crushing exercise in misery. To have work, that structure? That's amazing. It means I know what time I can dedicate specifically to you guys.

And on that note, I hope you thoroughly enjoyed this LOOOOONG arc. I know I did, for so many reasons. I will say something about the fights in this chapter, though. Much of the action, especially with Ketar and Zephyr, was _heavily_ inspired by the CW show _Arrow_. Say what you will about the gradual/not-so-gradual decline of their story and writing, but the fight scenes in that show (except for S4) are bomb as crap. The freeflow of arrows to hands to using a bow as a bludgeon—fantastic. Changed my whole perspective on bows ever since I saw Season 1, no joke.

And of course, it's always fun to write Serana transforming and going nuts as a vampire lord. Ever since I played Dawnguard and found out that Vyrthur was responsible for the prophecy that tore her family apart, I thought she should've had a bit more of a reaction to that little piece of knowledge, so…here's my take on it.

Next chapter or two will be a small pause, a calm before the immense storm that is the final battle against Harkon and Clan Volkihar. With the size I tend to go for in these chapters, I'm betting it'll only be one chapter, haha. But we'll see.

Anyway, once again, I hope you enjoyed the Touching the Sky arc of this story. We're rapidly approaching the end of the Dawnguard storyline, so expect some fairly epic crap to happen in the next couple of chapters. Stay tuned for more.

 _Oya vode._

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

Arrow (Season 1) - Vigilante Justice: Falmer canyon battle  
The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - Blood on the Cobblestones: chapel assault/beheading the Atronach; Like a Wounded Animal: Ketar vs. Vyrthur/frozen solid; On Thin Ice: Serana vs. Vyrthur/blood rage/"Serana!"


	18. A Winter's Tale

When Ketar felt that Serana was holding onto him because she wanted to, not needed to, he gave Knight-Paladin Gelebor a discreet nod over his shoulder, the Elf bowing his head slightly in acknowledgement. He approached them with quiet steps, Serana slowly lifting her head from Ketar's chest to turn her gaze toward Gelebor, who was looking around confusedly at the absence of Vyrthur's body.

Ketar sighed hard. "It's a long story. Suffice to say, I don't think we'll be seeing him again."

Just then, the rumbling grind of stone on stone reached their ears, and the wayshrine in the center of the chapel courtyard rose from the ground.

Gelebor's lips pursed. "So, the deed has been done. The restoration of this wayshrine means that Vyrthur must be dead and the Betrayed no longer have control over him."

Serana and Ketar exchanged a look before the latter spoke up. "Yeah…about that."

Gelebor blinked at them in question.

"The Betrayed weren't responsible for what happened here. Vyrthur was."

He blinked a few more times, head shaking slightly as he frowned. "I-I don't understand."

Serana detached herself from Ketar, but still held his hand. "He was a vampire. _He_ controlled _them_."

Gelebor's eyes went wide. "A vampire? I…" his eyes darkened for a moment in sorrow, "I see. That would explain much." He closed his eyes and, to their surprise, began smiling before looking up at them again. "Deep inside, it brings me joy that the Betrayed weren't to blame for what happened here."

Serana's eyebrows hiked upward. "You'd rather your own brother be responsible for corrupting them? Why?"

Gelebor gave her an enigmatic smile. "Because that means there's still hope that they might one day shed their hatred and learn to believe in Auri-El once again. It's been a long time since I felt that way and it's been long overdue. My thanks." He nodded to each of the pair. "To both of you."

Ketar smiled. "You're welcome."

"You risked everything to get Auri-El's Bow, and in return, you've restored the Chantry. I can't think of a more deserving champion to carry it than you. If you wish to learn more about the bow, or obtain Sunhallowed Arrows for it, I'd be more than happy to help. You've but to ask."

Serana's eyebrows hiked upward. "Sun-what arrows?"

"My question exactly," Ketar added.

Gelebor laughed. "Retrieve the bow first, and I'll tell you everything you want to know." His eyes flashed with a bit of benign mischief. "And I do mean _everything_."

Ketar's eyes widened slightly in understanding, and he gave the Snow Elf a nod before turning toward the wayshrine. He and Serana both gaped outright at the sight of its contents.

"It's…not as shiny as I was expecting," Serana admitted. "Still, it's beautiful."

And indeed it was: metallic, recurved, and patterned with curving, contoured waves of platinum Elven metal. The bowstring looked to be the same material as the bow itself, twined together into an impossibly strong cord, with a cross-stitched handle between the arms of the bow.

Ketar smirked wryly as they drew close. "Probably for the best that it isn't too shiny. Might be too bright for your eyes."

Serana snorted. "If that were the case, Vyrthur would've feared to use it."

He frowned. "Vyrthur didn't exactly have the soundest of mind."

"Eh, that's fair."

Slowly, reverently, Ketar reached out and took the bow from its mountings, feeling a sudden rush of power flow over his skin at the mere _touch_ of the thing. A sharp gasp came from his throat as he blinked several times, trying to clear away a blinding flash of light that came over his vision for the briefest of moments. It was gone a second later, and he was staring at Serana's mildly concerned features.

"You okay?"

He blinked. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Sera frowned. "You went white as a sheet for a second."

Ketar shrugged. "I'd guess taking otherworldly weapons imbued with divine power will do that to you."

She gave him one last concerned look before nodding and turning back toward Gelebor. Once out of her sight, Ketar let his frown show and stared down at the bow before slinging it over his shoulder by the string and joining her.

Gelebor smiled at him. "It suits you, son of Auriel."

Ketar smiled and nodded.

Serana frowned at the Elf. "What will happen to you now?"

Gelebor cast a tired look at the ruined temple behind him and sighed. "Even with Vyrthur gone and the Inner Sanctum destroyed, my duty as a Knight-Paladin of Auri-El remains. I've been sworn to protect this vale and everything it represents until I die."

"And the wayshrines?" Ketar asked.

"For the time being, they will remain open. If remnants of our kind who escaped the betrayal at the hands of the Dwarves exist out there, perhaps they will find this place one day."

Serana glanced at Ketar, head tilted slightly. "Maybe, once all this craziness is over, we could help you with that."

Gelebor's eyes lit up with surprise and genuine excitement. "Really? You would do that?"

Ketar smirked and shrugged. "Once all the potentially world-ending threats have been dealt with, I'm going to need _something_ to occupy my time. Really can't see myself settling down on a farm somewhere and living off the fat of the land, can you?"

"Or sitting in a castle all day," Serana added.

That earned a chuckle from the Dragonborn, who pulled Auriel's Bow off his shoulders and inspected it. His eyes eventually drifted back up to Gelebor. "What can you tell me about Auriel's Bow?"

The Falmer straightened up. "The bow was said to be carried by Auri-El himself into battle against the forces of Lorkhan in ancient and mythic times. Its craftsmanship has no equal anywhere within Tamriel and possibly beyond."

"What exactly does it do?" Serana asked.

Gelebor cleared his throat and motioned at the rising sun. "The bow draws its power from Aetherius itself, channeling it through the sun. Therefore, when an arrow is loosed from the bow, it produces a magical effect very similar to being burned by fire."

Ketar stared down at the weapon. "Sounds powerful."

"That's actually only a fraction of its potential. With Sunhallowed Arrows, you would be able to produce a much more spectacular effect..." he mimed an explosion with his hands, "causing bursts of sunlight to envelop your foes. The sunbursts would certainly hurt anything, but are _especially_ devastating to the undead."

Serana frowned at it. "Vyrthur said something about using blood."

Gelebor blinked and frowned a bit. "Well, using an arrow with the bow that's been dipped in blood may cause it to function differently...corrupting its purpose. That's of course if you're foolish enough to try it." He glanced between them uncertainly.

Ketar smiled and frowned. "Not why we're here."

His relief was visible.

"So how do I obtain Sunhallowed Arrows?"

The paladin smiled. "I can actually assist you in that regard. If you were to bring me some good quality elven arrows, I could imbue them with the proper incantations and rituals."

"As in…right now?"

"Absolutely, so long as you have some good quality Elven Arrows."

Ketar cleared his throat and slung the bow. "Gimme a second." He stepped away from the others and physically braced himself, then opened the rift, surprised when the massive weight he'd felt last time didn't bear down on him, and only a quiver filled with golden arrows emerged from the portal. He stared down at them blankly, then exchanged a look with Serana. "Huh."

Gelebor glanced between them. "What?"

Serana slowly turned to the Elf. "Ketar kind of…threw him through the rift."

Ketar raised a hand. "Well, actually," he pointed at Sera, " _she_ did the throwing. I just opened the portal."

The paladin cleared his throat again. "About that—"

"Yes," the Dragonborn interrupted. "About that."

"Answers, of course. But…" his lips pursed as he cast Serana a glance, "in private."

Ketar's teeth gritted as he felt his hackles rise. "Anything you say to me, you can say to her."

"In this case, no one but the Dragonborn is permitted to hear, at least not from me. What you do with this knowledge is entirely up to you."

He stared at the Elf. "Seriously?"

Gelebor's lips pursed. "I'm sorry, but I am bound by oath."

Ketar opened his mouth to argue further, but Serana cut him off with a hand on his shoulder.

"It's fine, Kay," she said. "I'll be up on the balcony when you need me."

As she sidled off, Ketar watched her go, then turned to Gelebor when he was fairly sure she was out of earshot. "Okay, what the hell?"

Gelebor sighed hard. "I'm sorry. As a paladin of Auri-El, I cannot reveal his secrets to just anyone, and certainly not to an undead."

Ketar's eyes rolled. "Oh, for Shor's sake! She risked her life to save your Chantry—"

"And for that, I am eternally grateful, but this is different."

He stared at Gelebor. "Why?"

The paladin straightened up and smiled. "Because it is your birthright, Dovahkiin, and yours alone."

Ketar frowned and crossed his arms. "Okay. I'm listening."

…

Serana sat on the railing of Auriel's Chapel, staring aimlessly out into the distance. The bright light and heat of the sun tempted her to pull her hood up, but even that seemed like too much effort for just how _tired_ she was. With a massive yawn and slow close of her eyes, she felt herself starting to nod off when a gentle touch at her shoulder snapped her awake. She looked up to see Ketar staring down at her in concern.

"You all right?"

She smiled. "Yeah, just resting my eyes." She pushed off the railing and dusted her hands off, glancing back at the courtyard. "You finish with Gelebor already?"

He gave her a look. "You've been up here for almost twenty minutes."

Serana blinked several times before letting out a tired laugh. "Guess I rested my eyes a little longer than I thought."

Ketar chuckled. "Well, don't worry. You'll have plenty of time to sleep soon enough."

She arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

He nodded. "We're going back to Whiterun."

…

"You're exaggerating."

"Am not."

"Oh come on, no horse is that fast."

"This one is."

"…hope you know I'm going to count every second."

"Oh I'd expect nothing less." Ketar sent Serana a cheeky grin as he turned toward the empty air and took in a breath. " _Strun'kren_!"

The deep boom of his Voice echoed across the Jerall Mountains, bouncing across miles of land and air.

"…one, two, three, four—"

Ketar rolled his eyes and reclined against a nearby rock, arms crossed over his chest as they waited. Getting back out of the Forgotten Vale had been relatively easy, now that they knew the way. Well, that and all the wayshrines had been activated, which gave them portal access to the exit through Darkfall Cave. They'd run across a few scattered Chaurus and Betrayed, but (thankfully) no more spiders, so the path out was pretty easy going. Still, after the night they'd had, with virtually no rest, the events of the last twenty-four hours were seriously weighing down on them. And Ketar knew Serana had to feed, but was being stubborn about it because she thought he was too tired to take it and stay awake. Truth be told, she might not have been wrong.

The familiar neighs and hoofbeats of Stormbreaker approached as he galloped toward them, sliding to a stop just outside the mouth of Darkfall Cave.

"Three-fifty-five," Serana finished. Her jaw dropped and eyes went double-wide. "Less than six minutes. That's—"

"A little over a mile a minute, I know," he replied, tenderly petting Stormbreaker's mane. Ketar's grin was all teeth. "I told you."

Serana's head shook in pure awe as she approached and pet the beast.

"When not laden with weight, Stormbreaker can fly like the wind. Faster, in most cases." Ketar hugged the horse's head to his chest, feeling more than hearing Stormbreaker whinny and smiling against his muzzle. "I missed you too, boy. Now, let's get moving. We've a long road ahead of us, and then it's rest."

He mounted up on Stormbreaker's saddle, helping a frowning Serana up into the space behind him and feeling like a missing part of him had been returned. He felt her arms curl around his midsection as he slapped the reins and spurred the horse into motion a second before she spoke.

"We can't afford to stop now."

Ketar sighed. "I know. But we can't afford to burn ourselves out either. We need rest. Especially after the last couple of days we've had."

Serana groaned into his shoulder, pulling her hood around her face. "Agreed."

He blinked and looked over his shoulder at her. "Really?"

"What?"

"You're agreeing with me on this?"

She blinked in confusion. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you tend to think that being superhuman makes you unstoppable."

Her orange eyes rolled. "Ugh, well, sticking around you has _certainly_ taught me otherwise."

Ketar chuckled and slapped the reins again. "Okay. If you need to get some shut-eye on the way, feel free to—"

 _Snooooooore._

A small, contented sigh came from Ketar's lips as his shoulders shook with silent chuckles. Amazingly, mercifully, they traveled all the way to Whiterun without incident.

…

Getting Serana to climb off Stormbreaker's back and walk to Breezehome was like trying to convince a child to eat their vegetables. She wanted him to _carry_ her, of all things. To be fair, under any other circumstances, he probably wouldn't have complained, only she'd had a nap, he hadn't, he wasn't a vampire (which in retrospect might've balanced out considering she was out during the daytime), and he was probably crankier than she was. The end result was a fruitless bickering match that led them all the way to the doors of Ketar's house—as planned. Ketar's legs gave out as soon as he reached the living room, falling onto one of the fur-covered couches with a relieved huff of breath. Face-first.

Behind him, Serana braced her hands on her hips and arched an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "Really?"

He reluctantly pushed himself partway upright and looked back at her with a similar expression. His right arm pointed to the side. "There's another couch right there."

"Or…" she reached down and plucked him from the cushions (much to his protest), "we could use a proper mattress."

"…we?"

Serana rolled her eyes and summarily slung him over her shoulder (to his much _louder_ protest), carrying him up the stairs and tossing him back-first onto his bed. It felt like he barely had time to blink before both their boots were off, along with their outer armor and tunics. Serana's half-clad form fell more than laid on top of him, head and right hand on his chest as she closed her eyes. Face and body red and hot, Ketar tensed up for a few moments before forcing himself to calm and gingerly bringing his right hand up to her mostly-bare back. He cleared his throat sharply, pulling her a little closer and burning up even more when she slung one of her legs over his and curled it around.

He was about to protest again when he felt her form relax and go limp against him, breath deep and even and nearly silent. A long, calming breath came from his throat as he curled his other arm around her shoulders and pulled her up a bit, so her head was resting under his chin. She let out a small, comfortable whimper at the shift, snuggling further into his embrace and causing a wide smile to take over his lips. His right hand stayed on her back, thumb stroking her smooth, flawless skin while his left gently stroked her raven hair, fingers tangling in the braid that always spanned the back of her head and gently working it loose. He looked down to see all her long, flowing locks fall freely around her face for the first time and nearly gasped at the sight.

 _This woman…knowing who she is, what she's been through…and to see her like this…_ He reached down and rubbed a lock of silky soft hair between his fingers. _So peaceful…so beautiful._

Ketar leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head.

 _Such a wonderful sight to fall asleep to._

…

The creak of Breezehome's front door opening and closing had always been a pet peeve of Lydia's. In this particular case, she was too deep in conversation to notice it much, but three steps in, she realized the door had been left unlocked and broke into a grin.

"And then Vex says—"

Lydia brought a finger to her lips hard, a gleeful look in her eyes as she pointed above them emphatically. A lithe, well-built man with long, braided red hair and a well-kept beard arched a questioning eyebrow at her, though his features soon matched hers when he realized the meaning of the look on her face. Together, they silently ascended the stairs and approached the master bedroom with devious grins on their faces. Once more putting a finger to her lips, Lydia nudged the well-oiled door open, revealing a scene that both inspired a mischievous plan (the likes of which she and her companion would _thoroughly_ enjoy) and nearly brought a tear to her eye.

Ketar, shirtless, laid out on his back with his arms around a raven-haired form.

Serana, also shirtless, laying on top of him with her head resting on his chest and one leg sticking partway out of the comforter curled over his.

Lydia couldn't help but stare at them, and Ketar in particular, who was sleeping far more soundly than she'd seen in, well… _years_. Her companion began to inch toward them, a grin that was all teeth and mischief plastered to his face. She gently placed a hand on his chest to hold him back, shaking her head slightly with a small smile that said, "raincheck." He looked back toward the sleeping couple, and in his eyes she could see that he noticed what she had: the dark circles under Ketar's eyes, the clingy, almost frightened posture of the pale woman in his arms; the still-healing scab in his right shoulder that spoke of a much larger wound.

With a blink and sharpening of his features, Lydia's companion gave her a solemn nod, then followed her out the door and closed it behind them.

…

Initially, it was the smell of broiling salmon that woke Serana up. What kept her up was the way the failing daylight illuminated the disheveled state of her pillow. Her live, strong, virile, impossibly handsome pillow…

Serana bit down on her lower lip, eyes roving his bare torso in pure awe as she gently stroked his chest and laid her head on his pecs. It took her a second to notice the still-healing hole in his shoulder—on the side she was currently laying on. She immediately felt a pang of guilt. It couldn't have been comfortable falling asleep like that.A slow, light kiss was pressed to his skin as she lifted herself off that side and silently moved to his other end. She lay her head against the meaty shoulder of his left arm, fingers gently stroking his injury and heart thudding in her chest hard.

For all the nightmares and battles they'd endured, Serana couldn't remember a single time where she'd been so afraid for him. It would've been the worst kind of coincidence, Vyrthur quite literally putting Ketar on ice. The man who indirectly took everything important from her the first time, doing it again when she finally had something—some _one_ to fight for. Sera felt the sudden and powerful urge to wrap her arms around him and squeeze hard enough to leave bruises, just to make sure he was really there, but managed to restrain herself. He'd had just as hard a time of it as she, if not more so. Especially since he'd been feeding her as well, which she'd stubbornly refused to do since leaving the Vale.

She wasn't that hungry. And she couldn't always sustain herself on his blood. True, he claimed there were no long-term effects on him, but…

He shifted against her suddenly, mumbling in his sleep and drawing her closer. A sharp, pleasant ache in her chest prompted her to curl one leg around his lower body and rest her chest on his, ear pressed against his clavicle and hearing the same reassuring _thump-thump_ that had given her hope during her battle with Vyrthur. If she was being honest with herself, it was… _frightening_ , just how close they'd become in the space of just over a month. She'd known he was special from the very first day they'd met, but now…now she could hardly remember her life before him. Or maybe she just didn't want to. That person wasn't the best thing to find staring back at you in the mirror.

Serana's eyes scanned his slightly scruffy face as one hand came up to stroke his cheek, Ketar unconsciously moving into her touch. It brought a smile to her face. Her hand fell to his neck, pulling her closer and tighter around him, protectively, almost possessively. Since first meeting him, their time out in the sun had tanned his relatively pale skin, and he was now lightly bronzed from the neck up. Serana could only imagine what he'd look like once he was shirtless and in the sun for a few hours, and after this was all over, she absolutely intended to find out. Even if it would be a supremely uncomfortable experience for her to take part in.

Serana sighed. _Sacrifices…_ She grinned wolfishly. _Totally worth it._

A brief, light kiss was pressed to his lips before she returned to using his chest as a pillow, mentally cursing whoever was making the salmon downstairs.

…

"I'm just saying. It's about time."

Lydia sighed hard. "I'm not denying that, Brynjolf. _I'm_ just saying that, with the way he attaches to his _friends_ , much less…someone like her…" another sigh, "I'm just afraid he'll get hurt."

Brynjolf smiled and strode over to pat her on the shoulder. "Of course he will. It's a part of life and any relationship, good or bad. All you have to worry about is being there for him through it, and you've never had much trouble doing that." He looked toward the steps. "Though I have to wonder: what is it about _this_ woman that makes her so special? He's certainly had ample dames to choose from."

Lydia arched an eyebrow. "Well, for one, she didn't _throw_ it at him. In fact, I think she pretty much kept her distance, emotionally at least, until he opened up to her."

He crossed his arms. "And the fact that she's an ancient vampire didn't count against her?"

She snorted a laugh. "Not in the slightest. In fact, I think that's part of why he fell for her. With age comes experience, and no matter how insecure that experience might make him feel in comparison to his lack of it, the fact that she knows what she's doing—and undoubtedly how incapable he feels at times—means she's probably the perfect person to teach him."

Brynjolf shook his head slowly. "Lass, never in my life would I have associated the word 'incapable' with our dear Ketar."

She chuckled. "I said he feels that way, not that he is, and if I know Serana, she probably already told him that."

He grinned. "I have _got_ to meet this lass properly."

Lydia smirked. "Just remember, she won't take any of your shit, Brynjolf, and if she did, Ketar certainly won't."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "You really think I'd get in their way? In his? That boy's like family to me. Last thing I want is to impede his happiness…especially when he's been lacking it for so long." He laughed. "Well, that and I'm pretty sure he could rip my arms off barehanded if I tried anything. Besides…" his arms crossed as he looked back to Lydia, "I've already got my eye on different game."

Lydia chuckled and turned to the pot of salmon chowder currently over the fire. "Then I hope she's got a stiff spine and a _very_ thick skin. She'll need both in spades if she's going to handle _you_ all day."

Brynjolf's grin faded to an enigmatic smirk as he watched her from the side. "Aye…I'm certain she does."

…

It was a testament to just how tired he was that Ketar hadn't woken up until a loud clanging noise (followed by two familiar peals of laughter) came from downstairs. It took him a moment to recognize the second voice, but when he did, he had to suppress the urge to release a loud groan.

 _Told her not to go to Riften…but I guess Riften came to her._

His dark blue eyes rolled in mild exasperation, stopping when they alit on a raven head of hair, locks splayed out all along his bare chest like a fan. It was almost painfully beautiful, seeing her like that, relaxed and safe in his arms, which gently curled around her waist, one sliding up toward her head and stopping upon realizing she wasn't wearing a shirt. A little further up, a soft leather cord reassured him that she was at least wearing _something_ , but still. It always made him extremely nervous whenever she was _this_ naked. He could only imagine what would happen if she ever went all the way—

His face burned up furiously as his eyes went double-wide. _Nope. Not going down_ that _line of thinking. Nuh-uh._

Ketar let out a small cough to clear his throat and took several deep breaths in an attempt to slow his racing heart and calm his blood flow… _all_ of his blood flow. Kay found himself staring at the ceiling, and not his girlfriend, for a full minute, forcing his thoughts elsewhere. Specifically, what they were going to do once they were done with their nap. Harkon had to be stopped, that much was certain, but he had an army of vampires to protect him. Even with Auriel's Bow at his command, he wasn't sure the two of them could take on all of the Volkihar Clan alone. They would need help, perhaps even an army of their own, but where to find such a force…

Lydia would undoubtedly stand with them, and probably the jackass with her downstairs too, but…that was still just four against dozens of vampires, most of them many centuries old. He could probably call on the Companions to assist them. Given the population of werewolves within their ranks, he figured they'd be chomping at the bit to take out a clan of vampires threatening all of Skyrim. They alone were a force to be reckoned with, but all the same primarily trained to fight men and beasts, not vampires. The only ones he could think of who were actually tailored to combat the higher undead were the Dawnguard, and it had been _weeks_ since he'd put Isran in his place.

Getting them to agree to help would likely be near impossible, but…on the other hand, in the last four months alone, he'd returned from death, survived a place that consumed all life, discovered two living members of a dead race (well, one undead), and retrieved the weapon of a god after fighting through an army of Falmer and two dragons. Just looking back at recent history forced Ketar to reevaluate his definition of "impossible." Still, Isran was as stubborn as they came, stupidly so, in fact. He could only hope that with time to grieve and cool down, he'd be at least slightly more amenable to reason. And if he wasn't, maybe the rest of the Dawnguard would be. After all, more than a few protested his actions the last time they'd met, and _none_ of them tried to help him murder Serana. Either way, Fort Dawnguard was their next destination once they were done in Whiterun.

His mind and body had finally managed to cool down by the time he figured out their next move, so he looked down and nearly jumped when he saw Serana's glowing eyes locked onto his.

Ketar's throat went completely dry. "Hi."

He'd expected a smirk, or a laugh, or something, but all she did was scoot herself further up and press her lips to his. Ketar gently pushed back, his abs flexing as he tried to sit up, but he found himself immediately pushed back down by a lithe hand on his chest. He actually bounced a bit on the mattress with how hard he was pushed. His eyes widened, the breath leaving his lungs as he stared up at Serana, who was looming over him with an arm extended on either side of his head. Even in the faint post-dusk light, he could see her fully: missing her shirt, and most of her clothes, in fact; but for all that, there was one part of her that held his focus.

Her eyes.

They were the one thing that could be seen clear as day, like dual reflections of the star that had just fallen below the horizon. She moved upward, lithe, muscular legs curling to bring her directly over him and straddle his waist, his hands instinctively going to her hips, but eyes never leaving hers. Serana let out a heavy, throaty breath as she leaned down and claimed his lips, fingers tangling in and gently pulling on his hair. She robbed him of breath, over and over again as her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, down over his arms before settling on his chest and feeling him up.

She broke away when his head began to spin, her lips going to his neck and lavishing attention on every inch of his skin. Any hope of keeping calm left Ketar's mind as his hands moved up to her back, then slid down to her legs, fingers twitching and tightening around the hard muscles of her thighs. Serana broke away from his neck for a moment to smile up at him, then pressed several languid kisses to his pectorals before crawling back up to his lips. He could feel himself melting by the second, unraveling more and more at her touch until a heat in his chest and gut built to a fever pitch, and he instinctively grabbed her by the arms.

A sharp pivot of his hips flipped them over, Ketar looming over Serana and staring at the surprised, excited look on her face as her lips spread into an enticing grin. He wiped that look off her face when he swooped in and claimed another kiss, hands stroking her well-developed biceps and mouth going from her lips to her cheeks and jaw and down to her neck. He stopped mid-motion, frowning a bit and looking up at her.

"Is this okay?" he asked in a whisper.

Sera's eyes warmed as she smiled widely and replied, "Oh gods yes."

He smiled back and returned his lips to hers, head spinning at the feel and taste of her. His hands drifted from her arms to her sides, body shifting to one side of her as his right hand slid toward her midsection.

Serana chuckled a bit. "Enjoying yourself?"

He locked gazes with her. "Admittedly?" He grinned. "More than I expected to."

Her eyes widened incredulously. "Oh? Oh really?"

He quickly held a finger up to stop her. "That's not on you, Sera. I just…" he frowned, "I thought that…because I'd never really wanted this before…" He shrugged. "I don't know, that maybe I wouldn't have the passion for it."

Her sunset-colored eyes warmed again as she looped her arms around his neck and smiled. "No…you just hadn't met the right girl yet."

Ketar smiled widely and leaned down to kiss her, then broke away and gently placed a hand on her collarbone to keep her laying back. His body slowly slid down hers, lips pressing to every inch of her exposed skin as he explored the contours of her lithe, feminine form. He stopped at her abdomen, lips lingering as his hands stroked her bare legs.

Serana giggled softly. "What is it with you and that spot?"

He looked up at her with a small pout. "What? I can't enjoy your abs?"

She laughed. "You can enjoy whatever you like, Kay. I'm just…wondering why there. I mean…most people would go for the more…" she arched her back a bit, emphasizing her still-covered upper…assets, " _obvious_ bits."

Ketar arched an eyebrow. "Pretty sure we already established that I'm not most people." He blew a raspberry into her stomach, causing her to cackle, and grinned. "Why Sera…are you ticklish?"

Her eyes flew wide open. " _No_."

He grinned wider, eyes mischievous. "No as in you're not ticklish—" his fingers drifted up to her sides, poised over her skin, "—or no as in you don't want me to test it?"

Serana bit her lower lip and remained silent.

Which then prompted him to tickle the living hell out of her. Both of them erupted into uncontrollable cackling as Serana writhed around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his hands.

"S-Stop!" she shouted mid-laugh, unconvincingly.

Ketar just grinned wider. "Nope."

"Oh come—" laugh, "—come on! I'm—" Her speech devolved into unstoppable laughing.

"Say it!"

"S-Say w-what?!"

"'I'm ticklish'!"

She kept laughing as he kept tickling.

"Say it!"

"Gah-ah! Okay! _Okay_! I'm tiiii—"

He intensified his efforts, which actually got her to squeal.

"—icklish!"

Ketar abruptly stopped, allowing both of them to flop against the mattress, one panting, the other grinning from ear to ear.

He spoke first. "I finally found something I can beat you at."

She arched an eyebrow at him and panted, "Oh?"

He nodded slowly. "I'm not ticklish in the slightest."

Serana pushed herself onto her elbows and eyed him carefully. "Oh really?"

Ketar shrugged nonchalantly, head resting on his knitted fingers. "You're certainly welcome to try."

She smirked and huffed a breath. "Maybe another time."

A long, low hum came from her throat as she laid on his side, one of his arms going around her back and holding her closer. Her fingers played over the muscles of his chest, his hand absently stroking her back as they sat in silence.

Serana smiled widely and kissed his chest. "You know, I have to admit, I am _really_ enjoying this side of you." She plopped her chin on his chest, staring up at his face. "I don't know that I've ever seen you so playful."

His lips flickered with a smile. "Haven't had much cause to be until now." He leaned his head down and placed a kiss on her forehead, which she smiled at. "But seeing you happy…you have no idea what that means to me."

She nuzzled his chest hair and laid her head down sideways, ear to his heart. "I have a few."

They remained there in silence until Ketar sniffed at the air and exchanged a look with Serana.

"You smell it too?" she asked.

"Oh yeah. They're totally paying for that."

"In salmon."

"Yep."

She arched a raven eyebrow. "Shall we?"

He nodded, giving her one last peck on the mouth before they disengaged from each other and exited on opposite sides of the bed.

"Hey," he called, "take these."

He tossed a set of women's clothes to Serana, who caught them with a questioning look at him.

His eyes rolled. "Don't read into it. Lydia dedicated an entire drawer of my wardrobe to women's clothing of average size in anticipation of the day when I might bring one home."

Serana's eyes widened. "Wow." She chuckled, donning a dark burgundy tunic and gray trousers. "That woman's ready for _anything_ , isn't she?"

"How do you think she's survived living with _me_ for so long?"

She grinned. "Good point."

Ketar felt Serana's eyes glued to his backside when he bent down to slip on a pair of black trousers, and surprisingly didn't feel embarrassed about it. A little extra hot, but not embarrassed. An ocean blue tunic with long sleeves went over his torso, followed by a deep brown, nearly black leather vest. A pair of boots of the same material were slipped on and laced up, his amulet and ring returned to their customary places on his person before he was finally ready. Ketar straightened up and turned around to find exactly what he'd expected: Serana, shamelessly checking him out with a _very_ appreciative look on her face.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked with a coy grin.

Serana nodded emphatically. "Whoever picked your wardrobe has _exquisite_ tastes."

Ketar cleared his throat pointedly and waved to his person.

Her eyes went wide in disbelief. "No."

He gave her a deadpan look. "Oh, what, a man can't be fashionable?"

"No, it's just…I thought you only liked black."

His eyes rolled. "That's because all my best armor is black and I didn't feel like dyeing it."

"Huh."

He stopped at the doorway, waiting for her to fix her hair with its usual braid around the back. "I could help you shop for new clothes, if you'd like."

Serana stared at him blankly. "You're serious?"

Ketar shrugged. "I'm the one who's going to have to put up with what you're wearing, right? I figure the least I can do is pick something I'll like." He grinned wolfishly. "Although I honestly think I'd enjoy anything you have on."

Her eyes rolled as she finished her hair and strode over to him. "Flatterer."

He smirked and looped his arms around her abdomen. "Is it working?"

She pouted a bit and stared off to the side for a moment before turning her gaze back to him and smiling. "Maybe." She pecked his lips. "Now come on. I'm hungry."

Ketar cleared his throat and tilted his head to one side, exposing his neck.

Her eyes rolled. "I meant for _real_ food. Though…" she frowned, "I _might_ take you up on that a bit later. Maybe."

He sighed. "Sera, you need to feed."

"And I will, I just—"

"Sera," he interrupted sharply.

She stared at him.

"Whatever happens next is going to tax us to the limit. We both need to be at full strength, and I can regenerate my blood almost as fast as you can take it."

Serana gently took his hands. "Then _after_ dinner. Okay?"

He arched an eyebrow. "I'm gonna hold you to that."

She shrugged in concession, then pushed the double-doors of his bedroom open and made for the stairs. Her hand stayed in his the whole way down, and Ketar felt a groan building in his chest when he was greeted by not only Lydia's teasing grin, but Brynjolf's as well, though seeing as how it was their first time meeting, the thief's eyes were practically glued to Serana. His jaw dropped when they were halfway down the stairs, Ketar noting with some irritation that he was staring at Serana the whole time.

Fortunately, she spotted it and saved him from having to check his friend. "Something I can help you with, Mister…"

"Brynjolf," the red-haired Nord finished for her, reaching out to take and kiss her hand. "A pleasure."

Ketar was giving his friend a tight-lipped smile from the side, to which he received a small wink.

"I've heard about you in passing," Serana said. "You're one of Ketar's," she made air quotes, "'people.'"

"One of his people?" Brynjolf arched an eyebrow at Ketar, then faced Sera. "If he were a lord, I'd be his bloody major domo."

Ketar scoffed. "Don't push it, Bryn."

The two men stared each other down for a few moments before breaking into grins and exchanging a one-armed embrace. They broke apart, Brynjolf holding him at arm's length for a few moments, looking him over with squinty eyes.

Ketar arched an eyebrow at his perusal. "Yes?"

Brynjolf shrugged and released him. "Just checking something."

The younger man's eyes narrowed slightly, suspecting what he meant. "I'm not—"

"Hungry?" Lydia interrupted from the side. "That's a shame, because I made all this salmon chowder."

Ketar's eyes widened double and mouth instantly started watering.

Lydia gave him this coy look. "So if you're not hungry, I guess I'll just have to eat it all myself…"

"And what about me, woman?" asked Brynjolf, feigning affront.

Lydia snorted as she set the table for the four of them. "Consider it payback for all the times you've emptied my pockets."

"Oi, I won every time fair and square."

"Uh huh. Suuuure."

"Thief's honor," he said with a salute as he took his seat.

Serana was watching their exchange with her lower lip in her mouth, looking every bit on the verge of cracking up. Ketar just shook his head and sat down next to her, leaning toward her when she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"And here I thought Lydia already _had_ someone."

Ketar groaned softly and rolled his eyes. "She gets a new model every week or so, but Brynjolf's not like that."

Serana shrugged. "Could've fooled me."

He blinked once, twice, then stared at the perpetually-bickering Lydia and Brynjolf and cocked his head curiously. "Huh."

That was apparently loud enough to get Lydia's attention. "Huh what?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. Just think I might've figured something out."

Brynjolf's left eyebrow arched at him. "Care to share, lad?"

He shook his head with a smirk. "Nah."

Lydia snorted. "Have it your way."

In short order, steaming piles of butter and cream-laden chowder were laid into four large bowls. As always, Ketar leaned in close to his bowl and took a long whiff, eyes unconsciously rolling back into his head as he took in the smell of perfectly roasted salmon, boiled potatoes, and whatever other heavenly ingredients she always put in this divine concoction. A brief, silent prayer of thanks was uttered to Akatosh a moment before he dug in. The table remained silent save for the sounds of eating and clinking of cutlery for several minutes before Ketar felt Lydia's eyes flickering between him and Sera. Lydia grinned as she took a long draught of mead, but upon seeing in her eyes the smartass comment about to pass her lips, Ketar spoke first.

"I know you're curious, and yes—the headboard is still intact."

Several things happened in the instant after he voiced that comment. One: Serana's eyebrows hiked up so far they became almost invisible beneath her hairline. Two: Brynjolf began cackling uncontrollably, so much he soon looked on the edge of tears. And three: Lydia choked so hard on the contents of her mouth that she fell into an unstoppable fit of laughing coughs, which Brynjolf had to help her with by patting her back.

In response to all this, Ketar just kept a nonchalant air and continued eating his dinner, vainly suppressing a smug smirk. Serana noticed.

"Wow," she voiced. "That was…the first remotely dirty joke you've ever made."

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "More like an inside joke."

"A _dirty_ inside joke."

Ketar just shrugged and kept eating.

"…I kinda like it."

"Well, if it has the potential to consistently shut _this one_ up," he waved his fork at a still-coughing Lydia, "then I suppose I could use some practice."

With a few closed-fisted pounds on her chest, Lydia finally managed to stabilize her breathing and stare at Ketar with a grin that was all teeth. "It only _took_ two years."

He arched an eyebrow. "Don't get used to it. I don't have—nor will ever have—a mind like yours."

Brynjolf snorted. "Pretty sure _no one_ has a mind like our dear Lydia."

"Something which we should _all_ be grateful for," Ketar replied before taking a swig of mead.

Serana's shoulders shook with silent laughter, the table falling quiet for a while before she turned to Brynjolf. "From what I understand, your organization is based in Riften. That's quite a distance from here. What brings you to Whiterun?"

Brynjolf shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, a nervous tick that didn't go unnoticed by Ketar. "Bored, mostly. That, and overseeing an…operation." He cast Ketar a questioning look, silently asking if he could discuss these matters in front of Serana.

Ketar gave a nod of assent.

Brynjolf returned his gaze to Serana. "Our longtime patron, Maven Black-Briar, has become a…problem."

"How so?" Serana asked with a frown.

"We always knew she was ruthless, but the more power she's accumulated, the worse she's become. False imprisonment, reckless tactics, paranoia. It's gotten so bad that she's begun to question the loyalty of everyone around her, even her own family."

"An outcome which, sadly, I predicted the day I met her," Ketar added.

Brynjolf frowned and nodded to him. "Aye, that you did. As such, ever since Dov became Guildmaster, he's been putting plans in place to remove her from power once and for all. And thus far, they've been going swimmingly."

Serana glanced at Ketar. "What plans?"

Ketar frowned deeply, staring down at his bowl. "It's…complicated. Maven runs on money. Money to buy off guards, public officials, grease wheels of trade, etc. Thus, we've been steadily interrupting her cash flow and making it part of our own. Not only has that hurt her numbers-wise, but with the dwindling security surrounding her businesses, her reputation among all nine Holds has been steadily diminishing."

"Which, unfortunately," Brynjolf added, "means her mental state has only gotten worse. Even _Ingun_ fears for her life now."

Ketar's features paled. "No, not Ingun. Gods…" he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I should just send Nazir to remove her and be done with it."

Brynjolf frowned and shook his head. "Much as it pains her to be under her mother's scrutiny, I think that poor girl would be hurt even worse if she were to die."

He sighed. "I know."

Serana looked between them. "Nazir…the man you sent to escort me to Winterhold…who is he, exactly?"

Ketar blinked and gave her a wary glance. "It's…complicated. I'm…sort of…" he looked to Lydia and Brynjolf, who gave him reassuring nods, "the leader of the Dark Brotherhood."

"…"

"Sera?"

"So, when he said you were his 'Listener'—"

"The Listener is arguably the most powerful title in the Brotherhood. I speak directly to the Night Mother to receive our most notable—and risky—contracts. The rest of the time, I task the Brotherhood as I see fit."

"In this case," Brynjolf cut in, "that means sabotaging Maven's operations."

Ketar nodded. "Attacking her caravans sends a much more potent message than simply stealing from her, and also keeps the Thieves' Guild above suspicion."

"Thus far, those attacks have effectively thinned out her staff—through fear, not death—by as much as forty percent."

Ketar's eyes widened. "Seriously? That much already?"

Brynjolf nodded. "Your plan's working like a charm, but you know how it is: back an animal into a corner—"

"And you risk getting mauled, yeah." Ketar frowned. "You're here to obtain Honningbrew?"

He nodded. "Vex already saw to most of the arrangements, greased the right palms, and all that. Just need one last thing before we're ready to move."

"Which is?"

Lydia's lips pursed. "The Jarl's backing."

"Meaning what exactly?" Ketar asked. "I know Balgruuf. He won't approve of interfering with another Hold's matters, especially not in this political climate."

"I think he will once he realizes just how unstable Maven's become," Brynjolf replied with a twinkle in his eye.

Ketar's eyes narrowed. "Brynjolf…what did you do?"

The thief just shook his head with a rueful smile. "That's the beauty—and tragedy—of it, lad. I didn't have to do a thing. Maven's tasked the Guild with breaking into Whiterun's treasury to recoup her losses."

The Breton's eyes and jaw flew wide open. "Is she _out of her mind_?!"

Brynjolf smirked and pointed his spoon at Ketar. "And _that_ , my boy, is exactly the reaction I hope to get from the Jarl." He patted one of his pockets. "Even got her signed and sealed letter to prove it."

Ketar beamed. "Bryn, this is… _exactly_ what we've needed to bring her down, once and for all."

The master thief just grinned and shrugged. "What can I say? I'm amazing."

Lydia chuckled.

"Also doesn't hurt that your assassin mates drove her even further into the Guild's arms."

"Or that I own the people she'll inevitably contact to retaliate against her 'persecutors,'" added Ketar.

Brynjolf clapped. "Exactly. Which is what you had in mind from the beginning. I realized the genius of it as soon as you confided your position as Listener. The two criminal organizations Maven relies on most—and you run _both_ of 'em. Without that backbone, she's about as strong as a paper bag in a monsoon. Resilient to a point, but inevitably crumbles."

Ketar let out a long, hissing breath, leaning back in his chair with his fingers steepled and a confident grin plastered to his features.

…

In all the time she'd known him, Serana could've sworn she'd seen Ketar's every possible side. Anger, sadness, fear, desperation, happiness, more recently playfulness. But this, this scheming, almost sinister mastermind sitting next to her…this was new.

"So," he said, pointing his hands at Brynjolf, "with that letter in hand, you aim to expose criminal intent on Maven's part against the Jarl himself, thereby voiding all claim she has to any lands or businesses in Whiterun Hold."

Brynjolf clapped once more. "Got it in one."

Ketar grinned. " _Knew_ there was a reason I left you in charge."

Of everyone at the table, Lydia seemed the fastest to pick up on Serana's change in mood, wrapped up as the boys were in their not-so-little conspiracy.

Lydia cleared her throat. "Serana, would you mind helping me with the dishes?"

The vampire blinked. "Not at all."

She picked up her dishes and Ketar's. He smiled at up her warmly with a small whisper of thanks. Serana smiled back, leaving for the kitchen and getting out of their earshot.

"It takes some getting used to."

Serana snapped to Lydia, the speaker. "Excuse me?"

The housecarl pursed her lips and nodded at the dining table. "Seeing him like that, wrapped up in a criminal enterprise so extensive, you can only guess at the scope."

Sera frowned in thought. "You can't say it isn't for a good cause. From what little I've heard, this Maven person was bad news long before Ketar took over the Thieves' Guild."

"That's true, which is probably why it doesn't bother me as much as most people, but still…"

The other woman shrugged. "Hey, I am just about the last person to judge questionable methods for the right reasons."

"Be that as it may, it's all right if you're uneasy about his…other occupations."

Serana pursed her lips and turned her gaze back to the table, where Ketar and Brynjolf were engaged in an animated discussion. "Honestly…I admire him for it."

"… _huh_?"

Sera turned back to Lydia. "I guess what I mean is, it takes a certain kind of person to stand behind their beliefs, even when surrounded by such extensive moral decay on the part of people in power. And not just with one expansive organization, but two, yet he retained his integrity and used what they meant for evil for good." Her eyes returned to Ketar. "Frankly, I'm amazed that he wasn't corrupted." She smiled. "But then, he's been surprising me since we met."

Lydia stared at her blankly for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "He gets all sappy when you're not around, you get sappy when _he_ isn't around…I swear, you two are _made_ for each other."

Serana felt her heart lurch at the offhanded statement (and its implications), but made sure not to let it show and forced a laugh from her chest as she made her way back to the table. She seated herself at Ketar's side, sliding her hand across his shoulder and grabbing his attention long enough for him to smile and hold her hand. That action alone was enough to stop their conversation, Brynjolf's eyes glued to their linked hands.

"All right," he said finally, "you two have _got_ to tell me how this happened."

Serana grinned at Ketar. "All you, dear."

He stared at her. "Why do I have to—"

"He's _your_ friend."

"Uuuuuggghhh… _fine_. So…we first met in a cemetery, when I broke her out of a coffin…" Ketar chuckled and shook his head, "and that's not even a joke."

* * *

AN: All right, so I've got a nice little double release for you guys. Was planning on covering a lot more plot in this chapter, but it turned out super long even for me, so I split it up into two chapters. Hope you enjoyed this one. Leave your comments on it ASAP. Soon as I get some feedback on it, I'll release the next one.

 _Oya vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - A Winter's Tale: sitting down for dinner/discussing Maven/admiration/end of chapter


	19. Your Eyes at Sunset

All in all, Serana had to admit, Ketar knew how to tell a story. A fairly good one, too; filled with drama, adventure, and no small amount of sappy romance. She supposed it was easy when the source material so closely fit that mold. It probably wouldn't go down as some epic love ballad or poem, but still, definitely kept Brynjolf on the edge of his seat. Some bits, of course, were dumbed down to spare Ketar the embarrassment of having to explain the…details. Others, for obvious reasons, were left out entirely, which Serana was very grateful for. Bottom line, by the tail end of an hour or so, Brynjolf had learned the month-long tale of their relationship from its infancy to the present day.

And for about a full minute was struck speechless.

When he finally did speak, it was to Serana, not Ketar. "Lass…" his tone and eyes were completely earnest, "I hope you understand just how lucky you are—"

She blinked.

"—to have woken up to him."

Serana smiled widely and nodded, pulling Ketar's hand into her lap. "Trust me," she looked up into his eyes dreamily, "I know."

Brynjolf's lips pursed as he looked from the couple to Lydia, who had switched from mead to tea. "I can see why she adores you so much."

Sera's eyebrows hiked upward as she cast a sideways smirk at Lydia. "Yeah, I guess she sort of grew on me too. We bonded over our love of reading…and tea. Ugh, we drank _so_ much tea…"

"Your appetite was all over the place," Lydia defended. "I couldn't do _nothing_."

Serana cocked her head slightly. "Pretty sure my appetite was all over the place because that was the first time I ever drank his blood." She bit her lower lip. "It's…unlike anything I've ever experienced." She released a small chuckle. "Honestly, I think this one—" she shook Ketar's hand in hers, "—might've spoiled me for life."

Ketar smirked. "And considering she's immortal, that's saying something."

Brynjolf chuckled lightly, looking down into his drink. "So this 'Tyranny of the Sun' business…"

Serana frowned. "We have to face my father. If we don't, he'll keep chasing us for the rest of our lives. He's already sent two groups of assassins, one that—" she stopped short and glanced at a deeply frowning Ketar, "—we have to stop him, once and for all."

"Serana," Ketar said softly, "you realize that…with how absolutely unhinged he's become, Harkon isn't going to be like Maven. We'll have to kill him."

She averted her eyes from both of them, playing with a loose stitch in her shirt as she stared down at the table. "I've been thinking about this for a long time. It's...it's not easy." She sighed hard. "But I don't think we have much of a choice." Her eyes turned to Ketar. "This has to end here and now."

Ketar nodded and turned to the other two occupants of the room. "I was hoping you two could help, but…our operations against Maven are at a tipping point. Can't afford to delay now."

"That rules out Brynjolf," Lydia said from where she was leaning against a pillar, arms crossed. "But I'm still up for it."

Ketar's lips pursed as he looked over at her, chewing his lower lip in thought. Serana couldn't help but notice a flash of disappointment pass over Brynjolf's features and had to suppress a smirk.

"All right," Ketar conceded. "But we'll need more than just you." He turned to Serana with a deep frown. "We need the Dawnguard."

Serana's eyebrows hiked upward, but it was Lydia who spoke first.

"The _hell_ you do. The last time you were with them—"

"I _know_. But they're the only ones with the forces capable of challenging the Volkihar Clan. Harkon won't face us himself, not without sending his army as a buffer, to weaken the attacking force." He frowned. "And something tells me I'll need all my strength to bring him down."

" _We'll_ need all our strength," Serana corrected, tightening her grip around his hand.

He cast her a brief glance. "Right." His gaze returned to Lydia as she protested further.

"Don't you have enough friends to rule out those assholes?"

"Technically, yes, but none who are trained to combat vampires, and trust me, that's a distinction worth making." Ketar snorted. "Especially since I'd be far more comfortable sending the _Dawnguard_ into the lion's den than one of them."

Serana frowned. "Why?"

He turned to fix her with an intense stare. "Because I just don't care about them."

Sera blinked and pursed her lips as Ketar reset his infinite stare toward the opposite side of the table. It was cold, but not inaccurate, or unjustified. Besides, animosity or no, Serana figured Isran would jump at the chance to annihilate the most powerful coven of vampires in Skyrim. She guessed they would find out soon enough, since he seemed dead set on this path.

"Better to send them in as cannon fodder than to risk people who actually matter to me," Ketar said.

The room was silent for a while as Ketar took a long draught of his mead, finishing it off and taking it to the kitchen.

Lydia stared after him for a while before turning to Serana with a frown. "We both need to go with him. If the Dawnguard decide to be petty about what happened with Isran—"

"Agreed," Serana interrupted with a nod. "I don't intend on letting Kay go _anywhere_ without me."

Lydia arched an eyebrow and grinned teasingly.

Sera rolled her eyes. "You _know_ what I mean."

"Mhmmm…I know _exactly_ what you mean."

Brynjolf chortled as the vampire gave Lydia a deadpan glare.

Ketar returned to the table a few moments later. "It's just after sundown, so a few people will still be awake. I need to visit one in particular to get something fixed."

Lydia stared at him. "Did you break the Fury already?"

"What? No, I need something re-forged."

Serana cocked her head curiously. "Re-forged?"

He turned to her. "Specifically, your sword. I didn't anticipate the height difference between us when I gave it to you, and I've seen your fighting style. It doesn't match what a longsword is meant and balanced for."

"I can still make it work," she protested.

He smiled. "I know you can _make_ it work. I just don't think you should have to. To that end, I was thinking a…basket-hilt?"

Serana's eyebrows hiked upward. "Really? Seems a little flashy for your taste."

Ketar chuckled. "That's because it's not _for_ me." He smiled warmly. "And I think a basket-hilted sword is just _perfect_ for royalty."

Sera's cheeks warmed at the look in his eyes, her lips spreading apart in a smile as Ketar clapped her on the shoulder and kissed the side of her forehead.

"I'll be right back, love."

She tensed for a moment as he walked away to retrieve her sword. Thankfully, the brief hesitation wasn't noticed by Lydia or Brynjolf, and she further buried it in a long drink. Metal clanking sounded from upstairs as Ketar bounded back down toward the front door, Guildmaster armor around his body.

"I'll see you in a bit," he called.

"See you," Serana returned with a smile.

She stared at the door for a while after he was gone. That didn't go unnoticed.

"You've got it bad, lass."

Serana cast a tired look at Brynjolf. "I know." She rose from the table. "And because of that, I'm going to wash up for bed."

He chuckled. "Then I better be heading out too. Long day tomorrow, and I do need my beauty rest."

Lydia chewed her lower lip. "You could always stay here."

Serana's eyebrows hiked upward as she threw them a sideways glance.

"The Mare tends to overcharge on nights like this," Lydia explained.

Brynjolf waved her off. "It's fine." He grinned. "Not like I don't have the extra coin." He gathered up his things, waving to both of them. "See you tomorrow…if I don't get thrown in prison. And then I'll see you at some later date, probably outside Whiterun Hold."

Lydia's head shook in exasperation. "Just be careful, Bryn."

He smiled and nodded, then left via the front door.

Serana was just staring at Lydia, who caught her observing gaze and arched a questioning eyebrow.

"Something on my face?"

Sera chuckled and shook her head, making her way up the stairs. "Good night, Lydia."

…

The Skyforge's flames were dying down by the time Ketar reached it, but Eorlund's gray head could still be seen poking around the place.

"Eorlund!"

The elder smith turned toward him and smiled. "Dov, my boy; what brings you back to Whiterun?"

Ketar smiled and handed him the sword.

Eorlund gave him a deadpan look. "Don't tell me you broke the Fury already."

He blinked. "What? No! Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

Eorlund just arched an eyebrow at him.

Ketar sighed. "Fair point. This is for a…friend. I need the blade re-forged into something else a little more…elegant. Shorter blade, with a basket hilt."

"Hmm…I think I can do that."

Ketar smiled. "Never doubted you for a second. There's a reason you're the greatest smith in Whiterun."

Eorlund smiled and took the ebony sword from him, placing it on a nearby table and making a few measurements. "Now, when you say this is for a friend, do you mean a friend…" he fixed Ketar with a sideways look, "or a _friend_?"

Ketar tried to keep the grin off his face, but failed.

The old smith chuckled. "Congratulations, my boy."

"Thanks, Gray-Mane."

…

It was some time before Serana felt the side of the bed dip with extra weight, and when she did, she couldn't help rolling over to immediately envelop the new occupant in her arms. They remained that way, holding each other in silence, for a while. Serana pressed her lips to his neck gently, nuzzling the soft skin there and laying her head on his shoulder.

She frowned a little. "How's the shoulder?"

He took a breath. "Better. Time and magic help. Speaking of which—" He exposed his neck and tipped his head to one side.

Serana sighed. "Kay—"

"I said I would hold you to it. Drink, Sera."

She frowned and stared him dead-on, their faces inches apart. "Why do you insist on this so much?"

He cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

She tightened her grip around his midsection. "Why do you want so badly for it to be you?"

Ketar blinked and stared right back at her. "Because after what you told me, about what it means…" a strange look passed through his eyes, like a possessive fire, "I'm, shall we say… _uncomfortable_ with you feeding on anyone else."

Serana blinked a few times before chuckling lightly. "Kay…it means less when you feed on someone who isn't a vampire."

His face screwed up in confusion. "Wait, what? Then why were you so pissed at Babette for—"

"Because you're different, Kay. Not a vampire, perhaps, but still… _extraordinary_. Vampires are by nature attracted to power. It's part of our 'gift' from Molag Bal. Anyone worthy of our attention must by default be able to match us in some way. Some vampires look for strength or tangible power." She frowned and cupped his cheek. "While you do possess that…that's not why I'm with you."

Ketar gently stroked her back with his thumb. "What then?"

Serana smiled. "It's strength of character, Ketar. You're the most ironclad person I know, a man of the truest integrity. _That's_ what makes you so invaluable in my eyes." She laid her head on his chest, ear to his heart. "Souls like yours don't come around every _millennium_." A giggle. "And I don't mean the dragon part."

Ketar chuckled and held her a little tighter. "I know. Same for you." His eyes slid shut. "Funny."

She looked up at him. "What is?"

"A Dragonborn, son of Akatosh, who wields the power of the sun, falls for a Daughter of Coldharbour. Now _that's_ irony."

Serana chuckled a few times before frowning. "You say that you see him as your true father, that he's had your back all your life."

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever think, maybe…he would disapprove of your decision to be with me?"

Ketar tensed a bit, falling silent for a while. "The thought crossed my mind."

"And?"

"And what? You're mine, and I'm yours, for as long as you want me."

Her heart tightened with an exquisite ache.

Ketar smirked. "If my father doesn't like it, he can take it up with me."

Serana looked up at him, eyes warming as tears threatened to surface. She kissed him firmly, then laid her head on his chest and let the beat of his heart lull her to sleep.

…

"That didn't take long at all."

Eorlund grinned. "You say that like you're surprised."

Ketar shrugged, sending a glance at Serana, who was perched on the low wall around the Skyforge and absently kicking her feet. "I just assumed ebony was a difficult material to work with."

"Ordinarily so, yes, but the Skyforge overpowers much of the natural resistance, allows me to shape the material far more easily."

He nodded slowly. "Then it's ready?"

Eorlund smiled and nodded, reaching for a cloth and unwrapping a sheathed straight sword with an ornate black handguard and a narrow blade.

Ketar turned to the hooded vampire at his back. "Sera, want to see?"

"Sure," she replied. Serana pushed herself back off the wall and strode over to them, hips swaying the whole way. She smiled at the smith. "Good to finally meet you. I've seen your handiwork firsthand. It's saved my life more than once."

Eorlund bowed his head. "Glad to be of service." He reached over to the sword and handed it to her. "I made some reinforcements around the base of the blade when he told me how strong you were."

Serana arched an eyebrow at Ketar, who just shrugged. "And you're okay with—"

The smith laughed. "Ketar Niel Dov doesn't associate with ne'er-do-wells, dear. If he believes you're worth his heart, who am I to question?"

Her lips pursed as Ketar restrained a wince. If only he knew…

Serana brought the sword hilt-up in front of her face, inspecting it closely. The hilt and guard were comprised of pure ebony, with gold-like ornamental patterns inlaid into the wider sections. A horizontal cross-guard was perched just above the basket of the hilt, with diagonal pivots at either end sloping back toward the pommel, which was a ribbed ball. Slowly, Serana drew it from its sheath, revealing a three-foot black blade about an inch in width, with the same gold embroidery patterned on either side of the fuller running down its center. She held it out horizontally, taking a fencing stance and pointing the tip at the wall she'd just been perched on.

"Give it a few swings," Eorlund said.

Ketar gave her a nod and stepped away as they cleared a space for her next to the forge. The noonday sun glinted off the edge of her razor-sharp blade as she turned her wrist several times, making a few sharp turns of the sword with quick swings to the torso. She dashed back a step, then lunged forward with a smooth overhead strike that cut the air with an audible slice. A stab, a spin, a wide slash to the legs. Serana twirled the sword back into its sheath, her eyes fixing Eorlund with a gaze of pure awe.

"This…this is—"

"I know, right?" asked Ketar. "Once he makes something just for you, you'll never want to handle anything else."

Serana smiled and shook her head, turning to face the smith. "Thank you."

Eorlund chuckled. "Thank _him_ for being so considerate all the time."

She smirked and fixed Ketar with a smoldering look. "Oh, trust me, I _thank_ him plenty."

As expected, Ketar went beet-red and began coughing and looking anywhere but her. Eorlund just laughed and clapped Serana on the shoulder.

"I can definitely see why he likes you, dear. Now, I believe you two have a visitor."

Serana tracked the man's nod to someone at the base of the Skyforge, a familiar brunette woman in full steel plate armor.

Ketar nodded to her. "Are all the preparations made, Lydia?"

She nodded back. "Stormbreaker's saddled up and ready to go." She gripped the hilt of Chillrend briefly. "And so am I."

Ketar nodded again, then turned to Eorlund. "Then we'd best be off. Eorlund, a pleasure as always." He gripped the man's forearm in goodbye.

"Do take care of yourselves," said Eorlund. "Especially you, young miss."

Serana arched an eyebrow.

The smith's lips pursed. "That boy has a habit of surviving things not even the _gods_ could walk away from."

"They get to her through my dead body," said Ketar. "So don't worry."

Eorlund huffed a small laugh, then waved his goodbyes and returned to working the Skyforge. As the trio left the hill of Jorrvaskr, Serana turned to Ketar with a humorous glint in her eyes.

"You didn't tell him about my age, did you?"

"…I thought it better not to." Ketar smirked. "Not everyone is as accepting of age differences as Lydia."

All three chuckled, Ketar falling silent first as he frowned in thought. Just by the look on his face, Serana figured she could figure out what was on his mind. If she was being perfectly honest, she was worried about the same thing. Still, the only way to resolve this tension with the Dawnguard was to face them once and for all…even if it meant coming to blows. And if that was the case, well…

Serana smirked. _I have a Skyforged blade with Isran's name on it._

…

The journey to Dayspring Canyon was…quiet. Not silent, just subdued. The nerves of the approaching confrontation were getting to everyone, it seemed, though Lydia seemed genuinely excited at the prospect of busting some heads. Ketar wasn't sure what she'd been doing in his absence, but they'd only really been gone a little over a week. How much trouble could she really have gotten into? Unbidden, memories of arriving at the Ragged Flagon only to find her, black-out drunk and partying it up with gambling and debauchery flashed through his head. An involuntary shudder passed through his body as he vividly remembered why he'd banned her from the tavern for life and shook his head to clear out the visions.

What met him a moment later wasn't that much more pleasant.

Fort Dawnguard had progressed by leaps and bounds since their last visit, with an outer and inner wall before they even came to the front gate of the castle. Though it seemed they were still having issues with retaining a full staff, from the lack of personnel guarding the outer wall. Stormbreaker gently nudged the gate open with his muzzle, the trio's horses trotting along the path and making their way deeper into the canyon. The tension in the air was thick, like a sudden fog that had descended over their party. Ketar's fingers itched to hold a weapon just on instinct, either Zephyr or the Blade of Woe, but he restrained himself as they approached the inner wall, which _was_ guarded.

Two familiar faces appeared at the top of the wall: Florentius and Agmaer. The latter spoke up first, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Lady Serana?! Lord Dov!"

Florentius stared at them and cocked his head curiously. "You've been busy, Dragonborn. Lately, Lord Arkay's been speaking so fast I can barely keep up."

Ketar rolled his eyes at the eccentric priest, restraining himself from plugging him with an arrow to the knee when he stared at Serana for _way_ too long. As they approached the gate of the outer wall, Ketar slowly dismounted and briefly placed a hand on Serana's knee. The message was clear: stay here.

Agmaer, apparently, felt no need to restrain himself, as he opened the gate immediately and rushed out to greet them. "You're okay! You're alive!"

Ketar felt a sudden rush of irritation and anger rise in him at the boy's outburst, directed primarily at Serana. Agmaer was gasping on the ground from having Ketar's fist planted in his solar plexus a moment later.

"Kay!" Serana shouted.

Paying her no heed, Ketar's voice sharpened as he pointed an accusing finger at the recovering kid. " _That_ was for standing by and doing nothing."

Agmaer stared up at him, eyes flickering to Serana as he coughed hard in an attempt to recover his breath and averted his eyes in shame.

Ketar's eyes closed as he sighed hard and reached down. "Now come on, get up."

Agmaer cautiously took his hand, letting the Dragonborn haul him upright and give him a small pat on the back.

"Where's Isran?" Ketar asked. "I need to speak with him."

Florentius finally climbed down off the wall and approached them. "I'd expect he has a few choice words for you as well. Come on. He's right inside."

Ketar cast his partners a halting look to keep them outside, then followed the Dawnguards into the fort. The entrance atrium was the same as ever, with a radiant beam of sunlight streaming in through the center of the roof illuminating a group of Dawnguards milling about. In the center of them, in discussion with Sorine, was Isran, who looked…different from the last time Ketar had seen him. Well, granted, last time he'd been on the floor with a collapsed lung, bleeding profusely from several places, but still. A few seconds after he entered, the entire room ground to a halt, silence creating a hair-trigger atmosphere that set Ketar's teeth on edge.

When Isran turned to face him, his expression was unreadable.

Ketar took a breath and spoke first. "Isran."

The Redguard tipped his head slightly to one side. "Dov."

The exchange seemed…eerily familiar, and not a great sign.

Isran handed a manifest scroll to Sorine, who was alternating her gaze between Ketar and Isran, and approached the Dragonborn with measured steps, stopping just within arm's reach. Ketar tensed up when he raised his right arm, but stared at the other man in confusion when he simply held out his hand.

Isran's face twitched. "I…I believe I owe you an apology."

Ketar blinked once, twice, staring at him dumbly. "Excuse me?"

He sighed. "I'm sorry. You were right."

"Well, that's…two things I never, ever thought I'd hear you say." He gripped the Redguard's forearm.

Isran snorted a laugh and shook. "Yeah, well, that makes two of us."

Ketar cocked his head. "What happened?"

Sorine stepped forward. "Isran opened his eyes is what happened. Even after we patched him up, the damage was so extensive that he basically had to be bedridden for a week. Gave him plenty of time to think." She frowned. "And grieve."

Isran sighed and rubbed his temples. "Durak was a dear friend of mine, but even _I_ realized that turning on you out of fear wasn't something he'd have approved of. Even if I _still_ don't trust the vampire."

Ketar's head tilted briefly. "Yeah, well…listen to her story sometime, and you might learn to. At this point, she's saved my life more times than I can count. _And_ she helped me find _this_."

With a step back, Ketar summoned the rift, briefly blinding most of the room with its light before it vanished, revealing the pale gold form of Auriel's Bow.

Isran's eyes went double-wide. "By the gods…is that—"

"Auriel's Bow. A weapon blessed by Akatosh himself, capable of harnessing the full power of the sun." Ketar hefted the weapon and bounced it in his hand. "You would not _believe_ the things I went through to get it."

Sorine eyed him and the bow with no small degree of awe. "Yeah…you'll have to tell us about that sometime."

"Later," Isran interrupted. "Considering how you left, you wouldn't have come here without an agenda. What is it?"

Ketar frowned. "Harkon. We need to kill him, once and for all."

Isran smiled. "Finally, something we _agree_ on. I've had my men scouting out the area around Castle Volkihar for weeks now, gauging the strength of their forces while we built up our own. We're as ready now as we'll ever be."

Ketar smiled malevolently. "Then let's get to work."

…

Having all the major players in the same room again, around the same table, was…interesting, to say the least. Ketar and Sorine saw to the seating arrangements, considering they were two of the most level-headed in the room. Gunmar was on Isran's right side, with Sorine on his left. Next to her was Florentius, followed by Celann, the Breton who'd greeted Ketar and Agmaer when they joined the Dawnguard. Agmaer sat next to him. Serana was on Ketar's right side, with Lydia on his left between him and Gunmar. Despite their reconciliation, Ketar still felt the need to place a two-person buffer between him and Isran.

Speaking of whom—

"Volkihar isn't well-defended by the docks," said Isran, "so we should have no trouble landing troops. The most direct way inside is, of course, the front gate, which is guarded by two human thralls during the day and vampires during the night. The causeway that leads to the gate is the main problem for entry."

Ketar nodded. "The first time I landed on the island, I saw no less than four statues—probably gargoyles on guard duty—spanning the length of the bridge."

"Since then," Gunmar cut in, "that number's doubled."

Serana frowned. "I guess my father finally decided to start taking you people seriously."

"If that's the case," said Ketar, "then we need a way of getting past them without alerting the guards. If they drop the portcullis, it'll take an army of trolls with battering rams to open it up."

"Which we could theoretically manage," added Gunmar.

Ketar shrugged, conceding the point.

Serana's eyes narrowed as she leaned over the map on the table. "Or someone on the inside." She pointed at the rear of the island, to the place where she and Ketar had infiltrated the castle previously. "What did your reconnaissance reveal around this area?"

"Light defenses," Gunmar answered, "skeletons mostly."

"Same as last time," Ketar commented.

Serana nodded.

Sorine looked between them. "Care to share?"

Serana's lips pursed. "In order to find the last Elder Scroll, Ketar and I had to infiltrate Castle Volkihar without being detected, via a secret entrance around the back that leads in through the sewers. If that entrance is still vulnerable, we might be able to smuggle a small team inside who can open the portcullis if it's dropped."

"It's a plan," said Isran. "Who's going on that team?"

"I am," said Sorine. "Celann should come too."

Ketar turned to Serana. "You know those tunnels better than anyone, Sera."

She nodded. "I'll serve as their guide. And you'll be with us, right?"

His lips pursed and head shook. "Afraid not. We'll need our heaviest hitters to storm the front gate. My Voice and Dragonborn's Fury need to be on the front lines."

"And don't forget Auriel's Bow," added Agmaer.

At this, Ketar frowned and looked off to the side.

Isran noticed. "Dov? What's wrong?"

He looked up at Isran. "I can't use it there."

The Redguard eyed him with a narrowed gaze. "What do you mean you can't use it?"

Ketar exchanged a look with Serana, who pursed her lips and nodded slightly, then faced the others. "The Tyranny of the Sun doesn't just require Auriel's Bow to complete. It needs _her_." He pointed at Serana. "Arrows coated with her blood, fired at the sun, will blot it out."

The room was silent for almost a full minute.

Isran's hands tightened into fists on the table. "So, what you're telling me is, you want to bring the key component of our enemy's victory right to their front door?"

Ketar's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Watch yourself, Isran. As far as we know, Harkon doesn't know he needs Serana's blood. Not yet. And if I don't bring Auriel's Bow to the fight, then he can't use it to complete the prophecy."

"It also removes one of our biggest advantages," said Sorine. "A bow that was _designed_ to slay undead…what was the point of getting it if you aren't going to use it?"

"To keep it out of the wrong hands, I'd guess," said Lydia, her first time speaking to the Dawnguard.

Isran turned to her abruptly. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"My housecarl," Ketar replied. "And one of a handful of people I trust implicitly."

The Redguard gave a small nod of respect.

"Look," Ketar sighed, "I get that having Auriel's Bow was supposed to be the key to our success, but I may have a way to win without it. Like Serana, however, I can't afford to reveal it until the right moment."

Isran exchanged a look with Sorine and Gunmar, his most trusted lieutenants, who nodded in turn. "We're putting our lives—and the fate of Skyrim—in your hands, Dov. I sure as hell hope you're right."

Ketar frowned deeply and stared off to the side. "So do I."

…

It was approaching dusk by the time the Dawnguard were ready to move out, the recruits and veterans gathered in the atrium waiting for Isran to give them their marching orders—and a speech. Ketar didn't feel like being there for that, so he excused himself and took the stairs to the castle's roof. He walked the parapets aimlessly until he came to the edge of a tower that overlooked the valley's western side. The sun was just starting to sink toward the horizon, shifting from golden light to a tint of orange and casting a faint red glow over the clouds. He stayed there for several minutes, quiet, alone. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of Dawnguard forces moving out of the front gate that he realized how long had passed, and felt a presence behind him moments later.

It wasn't who he was expecting, based on the heavy tread, but still a conversation that needed to be had.

Ketar let out a long breath and turned to face Isran, who was in full armor and toting his warhammer—the same one Ketar nearly used to kill him. Now that he'd had the chance to really observe Isran closely, he noticed there was a scar just above Isran's right jaw, where he'd been clocked with the butt of his hammer. The man's face was a study in confidence mixed with concern.

Ketar bowed his head slightly. "Isran."

"Dov."

They both turned toward the sunset, though while Ketar's eyes were on the horizon, Isran's were on his men.

"Magnificent, aren't they?"

Ketar glanced down at the battalions of armored soldiers and trolls proceeding from the fort's depths and nodded. "It is something. At times, I've wondered what it would be like to lead my own army." His head shook as he smirked. "Decided it wasn't worth the trouble. Too many mouths to feed, too many egos to soothe."

Isran snorted. "I don't tolerate ego. Anyone who places themselves above the group gets put out."

Ketar bristled. "I'm guessing you have someone in particular in mind."

"…I won't say that your actions haven't rubbed me the wrong way. They have. Several times. The trust you place in that—in the girl still baffles me to this day."

He arched an eyebrow. "But?"

Isran's head shook. "But I realize now that I took your age entirely too seriously. The things you've accomplished since we met—what little I've heard, what little came to me through my sources—I'd be hard-pressed to say an _army_ could do what you've done."

"That speaks to my power, not trustworthiness. So what really changed your mind about Serana?"

He frowned. "Nothing changed my mind about her. This isn't about her anymore. At least not between you and me." He faced Ketar directly. "I didn't have faith that you knew what you were doing, thought you were being swept away by some childish crush like Agmaer, or worse, enthralled. But for all that, you retrieved the Elder Scrolls, discovered the girl to be the final piece of the puzzle, and found Auriel's Bow, and _didn't_ take them to the vampires. If that isn't enough proof of your allegiance, I'm not sure what is."

Ketar's lips twitched with a smile. "Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence." He shook the other man's hand. "And I'll be right there with you when we storm the castle. Thank you for believing in me."

Isran nodded. "I should see to my men."

He nodded back, watching as Isran strode toward the stairs, then making to go after him a second later. "Isran, one more thing."

The Redguard turned to face him only to wince in pain when Ketar's gloved hand clamped down on his shoulder—hard.

Ketar's face and tone were dangerously neutral as he stared Isran directly in the eye. "I am glad that we're back on the same page. But if you ever—and I do mean _ever_ —try to hurt Serana again." He nodded toward the courtyard below. "I'm gonna take your head off and mount it on one of those palisades as a warning."

Isran's return expression was as neutral as he could make it, but his eyes shone with fear.

"Do we understand each other?"

The Redguard nodded slowly. "Perfectly."

Slowly, Ketar released his shoulder and pat it gently. "Good." He turned back toward the sunset. "Think I'm gonna stay up here for a while."

Ketar heard Isran's steps make for the stairs, then stop abruptly halfway there. "I hope she's worth it, Dov."

He just smiled to himself and watched the sunset.

…

Distracted by catching up with Agmaer, Serana didn't notice Ketar had left until the Dawnguard started to move out. Noting that she was searching for something, Lydia caught her attention a few minutes later and just pointed to the roof. Serana nodded her thanks and found the nearest stairwell, in the center of the fort, and climbed the spiraling staircase all the way to the top. In the doorway that led to the roof, she came to a halt when she came face-to-face with Isran, who was making his way downstairs and rubbing his shoulder for some reason. They stared at each other for several seconds before Isran stepped aside, revealing Ketar's back at the edge of the tower.

Serana nodded her thanks to Isran, then made her way toward Ketar, approaching him with quiet steps. He didn't move a bit as she approached, but spoke once she was within a few steps, tone deep and pensive.

"You know the sun does nothing to my eyes?"

She blinked. "What?"

Ketar glanced back at her. "The sun. It never hurts me."

Serana fell silent at his side.

"Know how parents always have to tell their kids not to look directly at the sun?" His head cocked slightly. "I can stare at it all day…nothing happens. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't blind me." His lips pursed tightly as he leaned against the parapet in front of him. "The one time it did, I had vampire blood running in my veins." He snorted. "One of the many reasons I hated that time of my life. Though now…I think I realize I didn't really appreciate the beauty of it. Not until I couldn't look at it anymore."

Serana frowned in thought, averting her own eyes from the sun. "What is it like?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Ketar's features twitched with a smile. "It's… _alive_. Most scholars agree with Gelebor that our sun is both a source of light and heat and a portal to Aetherius. So, it's like looking through a doorway, into a world beyond mortal imagination. Just a little window, so far into the distance, but it's there, and I can catch small glimpses of it when I look long enough."

Sera smiled a little. "Must make you feel special, being able to do that."

He shrugged. "To an extent, sure, but…the rest of the time, it just makes me feel sad."

She glanced at him. "Why?"

"Because…" his head cocked again, "I can never share it with anyone else." He smiled ruefully. "One of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, and I'm the only one who gets to."

Serana frowned deeply. "Kay, what's wrong?"

"Sera…you told me that you were attracted to me because I was different, extraordinary, and not just because of my powers, but…" his features sagged as he sighed hard, "there are days when I get tired of being so extraordinary."

She snorted a laugh. "Pretty sure every great man and woman has said that at some point."

"'To whom much is given, much is expected.' I know I can shoulder that responsibility, Sera. It's just…" another sigh, "it's so damn hard to do all the time. I've gotta manage my duties as Thane, as Dragonborn, as the Listener, Guildmaster…and all the while, it's my responsibility to save the world from things that threaten its very existence." Ketar pushed off the parapet. "It's too much for one man to carry."

She moved closer to him, getting between him and the wall. "That's why you don't carry it alone. In each of those roles, you have help. Nazir and that…Babette creature help you as Listener, Brynjolf helps you as Guildmaster, Brelyna as Arch-Mage, Lydia helps you as Thane."

He frowned down at her. "And as Dragonborn?"

Serana placed a hand on his cheek, smiling up at him warmly. "You have me."

Ketar's lips twitched with a smile as he took a step back and turned his eyes back to the waning sun. He was silent for a while before his head cocked slightly and a strange look entered his eyes. "You know…I was wrong before." His vision flickered to Serana's questioning expression. "There is one other circumstance where I'm blinded by the sun. Sunset."

Serana's head tilted slightly.

Ketar smiled beatifically. "When you're right there, looking back at me. Just…something about this time of day, staring into the west that…overwhelms the senses." He looked down, then back at her. "But…it's not even the sunset that blinds me." He reached out and cupped her cheek, the look in his eyes causing her breath to catch. "It's your eyes at sunset."

Her heart skipped a beat as his voice and eyes softened.

"Because whenever I look into them, the rest of the world just…fades away."

Serana couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. Every time she flirted with him a bit too heavily, or gave him just the right view of her, he was rendered speechless. But Ketar? All he had to do was _look_ at her like this, like she was easily the most precious thing in the world, and everything in her shut down but her heart. _That_ went on overdrive, hammering in her chest and making her whole body heat up until it became unbearable, and then there was only one way to relieve it.

So she did.

Her lips met his, softly, tenderly, as if for the first time all over again, except there was no hesitation or clumsiness to his movements. This was all heart and care and passion, and it scared her just how much she wanted it, wanted _him_. Her fingertips gently dug into his chest as one of his hands went to the back of her head, keeping her lips against his while it tangled in her hair. Serana felt the heat in her body build and build with every second, rising to a fever pitch as he slipped his tongue against hers and sucked her lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it gently. A throaty mewling noise came from deep within her as she did the same to his upper lip, both tangled and lost in each other until they were forced to come up for air.

And then they were still forehead to forehead, breathing heavily as they held each other. He took one more deep breath.

"Sera…"

Slowly, Serana's golden eyes slid open to see his deep, dark blue ones staring into her. The sight made her breath catch in her throat before it was stolen completely.

"…I love you."

…

Ketar's heart thudded in his chest almost painfully after he barely managed to exhale the words. And then, somehow, he found the breath and strength to do it again.

"I love you."

The look on Serana's face was, well…honestly about what he expected: pure, unadulterated, jaw-hanging shock. And something else he knew all too well.

It actually made him smile. "Does that frighten you?"

Serana blinked several times, her eyes staring back at him with all the beauty and life he saw in the sun. Her lips trembled for a moment before she breathed, "Yes."

And to both her surprise and his own, he laughed. Just once, just enough to relieve some tension and take a breath. "Good. Because for a moment, I was afraid I was the only one."

She remained silent, just staring back at him with her wide, gorgeous eyes.

He smiled warmly, thumb stroking her cheek. "And that's okay. It's okay to be afraid, as long as you keep moving forward. _Always_ forward."

Serana's lips pursed tightly as she nodded.

Ketar leaned forward and kissed her gently, one last time, then held her to his chest, head tucked under his chin as he stroked her hair. His smile persisted as he felt her arms tighten around him, pressing her further into his body.

"I love you," he repeated once more before returning his eyes to the sunset.

No words were exchanged. She didn't return the sentiment, and he didn't ask her to. He couldn't. If Serana felt the same, he would wait as long as it took for her to admit it. But Ketar couldn't walk into what was possibly the last fight of his life without giving the greatest admission of his life to the woman he loved.

The woman he would always love, even to the end of time.

* * *

AN: YES! Finally got to write the titular chapter! Wanted to do this ever since I came up with the story's name.

All right, so this two-part rest arc is finally finished, and we're coming up on the climactic final chapters. I've decided that this story will end at the end of the Dawnguard arc, just so I can add it to the short list of stories I've actually finished haha, but since my inspiration doesn't seem to be running out anytime soon, I'll probably get started on the next one ASAP, which will encompass the rest of what I have planned. Well, most of the rest. We'll see.

Either way, I hope you enjoyed these last two quiet chapters and are looking forward to the finale, because it is going to be _EPIC_. Think "Helm's Deep meets Doctor Strange" type epic. Stay tuned.

 _Oya vode_.

\- CDrake

Musical Inspirations:

Dracula Untold - Mirena: describing the sun/burdens of the extraordinary/"your eyes at sunset"/end of chapter


	20. Kindred Judgment, Part I

If Isran hadn't had friends on both sides of the civil war, the Dawnguard might've had a _much_ harder time crossing from one end of Skyrim to the other. As it were, there were more than twenty hunters, plus about half a dozen armored trolls, courtesy of Gunmar. Anyone traveling the roads that night would likely have cleared out half a mile in advance, so large was their force. All in all, a good number, especially since they were up against opponents much stronger and faster than them. Plus gargoyles. Plus skeletons. Plus death hounds.

Ketar frowned on Stormbreaker's back as he looked over the Dawnguard force, the reassuring pressure and warmth of Serana's body at his back. He glanced back at her, hair free of her hood now that the sun was down.

"Sera, do you mind riding with Lydia for a bit?"

She blinked and shifted her gaze from the distant nothingness to his eyes. Her throat cleared. "Sure." Without another word, Serana climbed off the horse and mounted up with the housecarl, who helped her into the saddle.

Ketar frowned deeper before spurring his horse forward and sidling up alongside Isran's. "This isn't going to be easy."

Isran glanced at him. "That's a given with vampires, but easy isn't what we signed up for."

"When was the last scouting mission you sent out?"

"About a week or so ago, why?"

Ketar winced. "I think it's safe to expect that Harkon's reinforced his defenses since then."

"With more vampires?" asked Gunmar from the side.

"Or thralls, more likely," said Isran. "Definitely going to be an uphill fight. Especially if they close the portcullis. Then they can just send in reinforcements over the walls, flood us with numbers, and we won't be able to do a damn thing to stop them."

"I'll be right there with you," Ketar said, "and I've gained a few extra tricks up my sleeves since you last saw me."

Sorine snorted. "I certainly hope so, or we're going to lose a lot more than sleep."

"We'll get it done," Isran said confidently. His eyes turned to Ketar. "I'm more worried about Serana."

Ketar shot him a look. "What about her?"

Isran's lips pursed. "Even if you trust her not to turn on us, can she be trusted to lift a blade against her own kind? Her own kin?"

Ketar's jaw clenched. "When it comes to doing the right thing…" he pulled the reins back toward Lydia, "I trust _her_ more than _you_."

…

"I can feel your tension."

Serana arched an eyebrow at the back of Lydia's head. "Is it really that obvious?"

Lydia chuckled. "It is when you're pressed up against my back. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong…"

"…that was remarkably unconvincing."

Sera sighed hard. "It's just…he said something to me, before we left Fort Dawnguard."

"Was it about your father?"

"No. About us."

Lydia looked back at her with wide eyes. " _Oh_. Is he—"

"He told me he loved me."

The Nord housecarl was struck dumb and slack-jawed as her eyes went double-wide. "That's…not quite what I had in mind."

"Then what did you—"

"Hey!"

They stopped short at Ketar's approach, Stormbreaker falling into step with them.

"What's going on?" he asked, reaching out for Serana's hand.

Lydia stopped her from taking it and shot Ketar a look. "Girl talk. Scram. Now."

Ketar's eyes widened as he threw his hands up. "I don't want to know."

Serana frowned. "Kay, would you talk to Agmaer? He seems…glum."

"As well he should be. We're about to go up against a force of immortal vampires several centuries old, with who knows what—"

"I meant with regard to you. He doesn't think you've forgiven him."

"…"

"Kay—"

"I'll talk to him." With that, Ketar slapped his reins and moved off.

Lydia turned her attention to Serana. "Explain."

She sighed. "It's a long story."

The other woman waved at the dark horizon. "We have time. I doubt Isran will want to attack without the cover of daylight."

Serana took a deep, calming breath. "Okay…"

…

"Agmaer!"

The lad jolted at the call from behind, turning on his horse to see Ketar trotting up alongside him. "Lord Dov."

Ketar shot him a look. "Oi, just because I'm pissed doesn't mean I gave you permission to go all formal on me."

He laughed hesitantly. "My mistake."

The Dragonborn's expression sharpened. "Listen…I don't want you to think that I don't understand."

Agmaer looked at him dead-on.

"I do. You were torn between allegiances. I get it." Ketar's lips pursed. "But Serana is more important to me than anything or anyone in Fort Dawnguard." His lips twitched with a smile. "I love her."

The young Nord's eyes went double-wide.

"I didn't know it then, but I knew she was important to me. And…that you didn't intervene, when Isran was so clearly in the wrong…"

Agmaer nodded slowly.

"But that's in the past now. It's done, and right now, we need to move forward." He held out his hand. "Can I trust you to do that?"

Agmaer took it firmly. "Of course."

Ketar frowned as he looked back toward Lydia's horse. "And whatever happens…you keep her safe."

"I'll…do my best."

"That's all I ask."

…

"…so after all that, you just watched the sunset together?"

"Well, obviously not—vampire."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

Serana sighed. "Yeah. Pretty much. We came down right after that."

A pronounced groan came from the housecarl. "You two are such a mess."

"I know!" Serana slumped over partway, staring off to the side. "And now I don't know what to do. He poured out his heart to me, and I just…froze."

Lydia's lips pursed. "Tell me, have you ever felt that way about someone before?"

She blinked a few times. "I…I don't know." Her mind drifted back to the look in his eyes when he'd said it, her body warming at the memory. "I don't think so."

"Then of _course_ you're going to freeze. I think, for perhaps the first time in your relationship, _you're_ the one who's out of their depth."

Serana groaned and hid her face in her hands.

Lydia just laughed. "That's okay, you know. As long as you don't let yourself be frightened into doing something stupid."

"Like what?"

"Well, running away, for one. Or shutting down, shutting him out."

Her lips pursed tightly.

"…you weren't considering that, were you?"

"No…I just—"

"Good, because if you ever hurt him like that, I'd kill you."

Sera snorted a laugh.

Lydia looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm perfectly serious."

She smiled and nodded. "I know." Her eyes turned to the side, to the gigantic slopes of the Throat of the World. "You know, he said something about that…not letting fear drive you backward. Running away would definitely be a step backward for me."

"Then face it. Let yourself be uncomfortable, just for a while, until you figure out the right move. Trust me, when it comes to the people you care about, doing the right thing is a great deal simpler than it seems. Easy? No. But simple."

Serana frowned and nodded slowly. "Thanks, Lydia."

She smiled. "Anytime."

…

"There it is. Castle Volkihar, in all its glory." Ketar looked back at Serana from his position behind a boulder at the bottom of the castle's hilly approach. "Still think I'm crazy?" he asked, nodding at the pre-dawn sky, which was completely starless and overcast.

She rolled her eyes and smirked, turning to her little team and waving them toward a small boat. "Come on. We should get in there before the attack starts. Prevent them from blocking the assault force to begin with."

"I'm coming with you!"

The pair turned to see Agmaer rushing toward them.

The Nord slid to a stop in front of the boat, frowning. "I have a promise to keep." He cast a look at Ketar, who nodded to him.

Sera glanced between them before shrugging. "Four instead of three shouldn't make that much of a difference as far as detection. Welcome aboard."

Agmaer smiled.

"The attack begins at dawn," said Isran. "You have a little over an hour to get it done. After that, we're taking our chances."

Serana nodded. "Understood. Let's move out!"

Ketar strode over and caught her arm before she got on the boat. "Be careful."

She looked back and him and smiled a little, then got up on her tiptoes and kissed him firmly. She placed her hands on his chest when she pulled away. "I will."

Ketar watched her go with an unbearable tightness in his chest. Her slim form was decked out in Valerica's suit of Volkihar Royal Knight armor, the first time he'd ever seen her wear it. The chestplate was the same as her usual attire, light and nearly impregnable, with a red tunic underneath and a short cape of the same color clasped together by a brooch on her collarbone, spanning just to the bottom of her shoulderblades. The suit's dark metal glinted in the faint light cast by the Dawnguards' torches, showing off the extra plating around the shoulders, arms, and legs, with full gauntlets comprised of bracers and fingerless leather gloves. As usual, Serana wore it well, as if it had been made for her, but even with the extra protection, Ketar was worried.

Every time she'd fought alone, something horrific had happened—or almost happened. True, she wasn't technically alone, but he wouldn't be there to personally watch her back. And that irked him. With a hard exhale of breath, Ketar refocused on the task at hand, specifically scouting out the enemy's vanguard and tailoring the Dawnguard's accordingly. His eyes slid shut as he took a deep breath, perched once more behind a boulder.

" _Laas-Yah-Nir_."

When his eyes opened, he could clearly see two red glows at the far end of the causeway, with many fainter, hazy signatures deeper inside the castle. He turned to the others. "I'm picking up two manning the gate. Vampires, no doubt, at least at this time of night."

"They'll be gone by dawn," said Isran, "and taking out the thralls that replace them should be child's play."

"But you said only two were manning the gate," Florentius pointed out.

"That I can _see_ ," replied Ketar.

"But that Shout of yours sees everything, no?" asked Gunmar. "So those statues are really just statues."

Ketar frowned. "One of the things that makes gargoyles so annoying is what happens when they're inactive. That stone skin of theirs makes them invisible to _all_ types of magic until it shatters."

"So basically there's no way of knowing whether or not a bridge ornament is going to murder us until it tries," said another Dawnguard, a Bosmer woman.

He shrugged. "Basically."

"Then we assume they're _all_ gargoyles," said Isran. "Which leaves us with quite the dilemma. How the hell do we get to the gate without half of us being torn to shreds and alerting the guards in the process?"

"Normally, I'd suggest cover of night," Ketar said, "but those vampires will be on guard until they switch out at daylight; either which way eliminates any hope of approaching undetected."

"So our only hope is to hit them with overwhelming force?" Gunmar asked with a feral grin. "I can get behind that."

"Normally," Lydia interjected, "I'd agree, but I've got a _really_ bad feeling about this whole setup. Even if Serana and her team keep that portcullis from shutting, they can still flood the bridge with reinforcements, wear us down with numbers, and they have the advantage of being able to pull back."

"She's right," conceded Isran. "At that point, it's a war of attrition, and I don't fancy our odds against vampires without Auriel's Bow." He cast a pointed glance at Ketar.

The Dragonborn's head shook. "We can't risk it falling into Harkon's hands."

"Harkon isn't here, and I doubt he'll join the defense force. Too proud."

"You're right about that, but all it takes is one of them to get in a lucky shot and steal the bow from me. They'll know what it is as soon as I unveil it, and then getting it from me will be their top priority." Ketar smirked. "Trust me, I have something that will _destroy_ them. I just need to wait for the right time."

"So," said the Bosmer, "if we're ruling out a full-on assault, what are our options?"

Ketar's gaze turned back toward the gate as his eyes narrowed. "I have an idea, but for it to work, everyone needs to remain here, out of sight of the gate."

Isran gave him a look. "Why?"

He frowned. "You're gonna have to trust me."

He cast a nod at Lydia, and she returned a knowing look, silently assuring him she'd ensure they followed his orders. How she intended to accomplish that, he couldn't tell, but he trusted her to do the job. Now he just had to wait for the changing of the guard.

…

It seemed Harkon was every bit as paranoid as Ketar had predicted. Even the "unused" inlet had been significantly reinforced. Only skeletons, granted, so they couldn't really alert the rest of the castle, but still annoying. Thankfully, Agmaer and the rest of her team were extremely proficient with their crossbows. She'd advised Sorine and Celann against using any sun magic until they were inside, seeing as how it was pitch dark out and any massive flares of light might be seen by the gate guards, even from that far away. If that happened, they were blown. As it stood, only a few lightning strikes and crossbow bolts were enough to put the skeletons down and give them an opening to hit the cistern.

The door was locked this time, however, and Serana frowned at it for a moment before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, focusing on something she'd learned back in Whiterun while they were waiting for her sword to be done.

…

 _"So it's like you have to compress the energy of a telekinetic spell into the space of your palm."_

 _"Exactly," Serana replied, tightening her fingers and channeling a kinetic bolt in her left hand, then releasing it into a target._

 _"I see."_

 _At present, Ketar and Serana were behind Jorrvaskr, practicing their spells in full sight of the Companions who were also training, including Vilkas. The Nord was eyeing the pair with a mix of glee and exasperation at their use of the targets for magic. Ketar caught him and just shot him a look before he rolled his eyes and sidled off to do something else._

 _Serana smirked. "Focus, Kay. You don't want to screw this up or it could backfire and slam you with bone-crushing force."_

 _He frowned and nodded, bringing both his hands together and channeling magic into the space between them. To his excitement and Serana's mild chagrin, he assembled a kinetic bolt in seconds—a_ powerful _one…after having it explained once._

It took me two _months_ to perfect that spell.

 _For all her moping, Serana was immensely proud of how easily Ketar's bolt shattered the target in front of him, and how could she not be happy at the grin it put on his face? All the same, she still felt the need to comment._

 _"You know how long it took me to develop the kinetic bolt?"_

 _He frowned. "I thought it was your_ mother's _invention."_

 _Serana snorted. "She may have adopted it, but I perfected the magic behind it."_

 _"Ah. Well, don't feel too bad. I've always had a talent for Alteration and Destruction magic. It only took me a day to learn the plasma bolt, and from a dead language, no less. Speaking of which—"_

 _Serana frowned deeply and faced her target, bringing her hands forward and cupping them together._

 _"Remember what I said. It's just like your kinetic bolt, only with lightning, which makes it a great deal more unstable."_

 _Her jaw tightened as she focused more and more of her power, the space between her hands sparking and flaring with sapphire energy that fizzled in several directions. She almost jumped when he felt hands on her forearms, but quickly relaxed when she felt Ketar's lightly calloused fingertips against her wrist._

 _"You misunderstand," he said in a smooth, gentle voice. "You can't force stability on this kind of magic. That's the reason it's so difficult to master; it's counter-intuitive. You have to surrender to the power, work_ with _it rather than against it."_

 _Serana's eyes slid shut as she focused not on the spell, but the currents of magicka drawn to her hands. She felt how they swirled about, chaotic and spasmodic the more she tried to control them, felt how tightly she was holding onto her spell and how strained the connection felt. And for once, she began to wonder if she and her mother had been looking at the whole thing the wrong way? Through necromancy, they'd always tried to force their will on the world, but the more she relaxed, the more she eased her touch and surrendered to the current, the smoother the flow. Perhaps not as strong at first, but much, much more stable, more consistent._

 _She heard the grin in Ketar's voice. "Now_ that's _more like it."_

 _Her eyes opened a split-second before she released it._

…

A loud pop filled the air as a hole was blasted through the lock on the door, the eye-sized incision smoking and red-hot at its edges.

Agmaer was gaping. "That's new. For you at least."

Sera smirked. "Who says you can't teach old dogs new tricks?"

Sorine grinned. "That would imply that you're a—"

"Finish that sentence, Sorine." Serana's eyes narrowed. "See what happens."

The Breton chuckled and pushed the door open, crossbow at the ready as Celann flanked her other side. Agmaer took up the rear while Serana cleared the room beyond. The familiar rotten scent of death hounds reached her nostrils a moment before she heard the growls. Serana flipped her dagger from its sheath with one hand while her other produced an ice spike that impaled it in the right front hip. Sorine finished it with crossbow bolt to the head, another two charging through the gap a moment later. Celann drew a Dawnguard axe and brought the haft up horizontally when one of the hounds lunged for his face, its jaws clamping around the shaft. It shrieked as the axe's blessed metal burned its flesh, releasing Celann's weapon and allowing him to sink the axe-blade into its body.

Serana stepped between Sorine and the second hound, waiting for it to charge for her, then twisting to the side and stabbing it in the hindquarters. She slit its throat a moment later, checking her backup, then heading through the door to the labyrinthine undercroft of Castle Volkihar. There was no feral vampire this time, which she was grateful for, but that was compensated for with extra death hounds and spiders. She was suddenly very glad that Ketar had decided not to go with her. Though not as large as they could've been, the frostbite spiders they encountered were particularly numerous, all-too-reminiscent of what he'd told her about the whole reason for his phobia.

Serana sunk her dagger into the maw of one such spider that leapt for her face, snarling in disgust, then pulling two of its legs off with one hand and beating it with them. She tossed it against a nearby wall, then sheathed her dagger and channeled a lightning spell in both hands that rapidly chained from one spider to the next, frying them all from the inside out. Sorine pushed off a wall from where she'd been thrown by a larger spider, kicking its dead form once before sidling up next to Serana.

"How much further?" she asked their vampire guide.

Sera frowned. "Not far, but it's going to take some stealth to reach the portcullis winch without being detected, and your heavy armor isn't exactly suited for that."

"Neither is yours," Sorine pointed out with a wave at her suit.

"But I'm a vampire. My steps are naturally lighter than yours."

"What do you suggest?" asked Celann.

She blinked and scanned the area ahead. "I'll go alone, see if I can clear a path, then have you bring up the rear."

"I don't like that idea," Agmaer said uneasily.

"Neither do I, but dawn is almost upon us and we can't afford to put them on alert before the attack begins." Her lips pursed tightly. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

…

Ketar wasn't particularly known for his nervous ticks. At least, not any obvious ones. Lydia, however, knew his few tells, and at the moment, one of them was practically staring her in the face. Specifically, him twirling a throwing knife through his fingers in sequence. It was a look that told her he was itching to kill something, but only because he was worried. And by the rate at which the knife was spinning, he was _very_ worried. The thought behind the worry made her want to smile, and she would've if she weren't worried about the same thing. Because it pissed him off (and because he told them everything), Ketar told her and Brynjolf about what had happened with Vingalmo while Serana was still sleeping. Which then pissed _her_ off. Royally. Like, stomping around the room and breaking stuff pissed off.

And that was _before_ he explained its full significance.

The swearing that came from her mouth stunned even _Brynjolf_ into silence. It took them both five full minutes to calm her down enough to prevent her from storming off in just her sleeping clothes, Chillrend in hand, and hunting down Vingalmo. Just _thinking_ about that conversation now made Lydia's sword-arm twitch and flex.

Gunmar noticed. "Getting a little antsy, lass?"

Lydia arched an eyebrow at him. "First off, don't call me that. Only one man is allowed to call me 'lass,' and it's not you. Second…" she frowned, "I'm thinking about something else."

The red-haired Nord nodded slowly and stroked his massive beard, eyes cast upon the ominous dark stones of the castle and the (quite literally) uphill climb it would take to get there. "I wonder what Dov's plan is. It'll be nasty fighting the whole way through, even with the trolls. This secret weapon of his must be powerful if he's banking our victory on it."

She smirked and cast a look on her Thane. "In case you haven't noticed yet, he _is_ the weapon. Anything else is just ornamental."

He chuckled. "Fair enough. I just hope it's sufficient. I have no illusions; not all of us are walking out of this alive, but I've seen enough friends die not to want to watch it happen again." He frowned. "I just want it to mean something this time."

Lydia placed a gauntleted hand on his shoulder. "It will, friend. Trust me." Her eyes swept back to Ketar's twitching knife-hand. "He'll _make_ it."

…

Serana had a bit more trouble than usual keeping her steps quiet because of the armor. All the same, if she was going to assault her childhood home—currently filled to the brim with hostile undead and other unsavory creatures—there wasn't a chance in Coldharbour she would forgo the extra protection. Especially not when she found herself ambushed by two gargoyles and nearly skewered to a wall when one of them pulled a flagpole off its mountings and used its metal tip as a spear. The flag tip skidded off the shoulder-plate of the armor and imbedded itself in the wall behind her as she flipped her dagger into an upright position and skewered it through the eye socket.

She moved immediately on to the next one as the first crumbled to stone shards, ducking its first slash and jamming the dagger into its left hip. She yanked it through the limb, severing it and clamping her hand over the thing's mouth when it tried to shriek. The knife went through its vocal cords—or whatever its approximation was—a moment later. She finished it with a hard, steel-booted stomp to its head, crushing it to dust. Serana wiped the residue from her dagger before sheathing it and resuming her trek toward the gatehouse. The escape passage she was using to reach the portcullis winch hadn't seen use in ages, by the way she had to unjam the door, making sure to shut it again behind her. It was designed to act as a false wall, so there was little chance of detection so long as no one saw the seams. And she doubted many of the castle's residents even knew it existed.

A full sweep of the narrow hallway that led to the gatehouse confirmed that the space was unoccupied. With a feral grin, Serana backtracked to the rest of the Dawnguard and pushed the escape door open with a loud grind, which made her wince. Not quite as much as a meaty fist knocking her across the jaw, though. The impact alone sent her reeling and stumbling to one side, using her momentum to turn toward the source of the blow. Serana snarled when she saw who it was: a large brute of a Nord with light brown hair, named—

"Orthjolf," she greeted, voice poisonously sweet. "What a pleasant surprise."

He grinned and bared his fangs, eyes blazing with undead fire. "Likewise, Serana. Though I'm surprised you don't have your Breton boy-toy attached to you at the hip." He smiled wider at the widening of her eyes. "Oh yes. Vingalmo told us all about your little paramour. Normally, I don't believe a word that comes from that snake's mouth, but after seeing the way you looked at him, just for a few moments, I can believe it." He turned to the open passageway, gasping dramatically. "And what's this? A secret door?" He pouted and shook his head. "Someone's been a very naughty girl." He drew the axe at his hip. "Doing favors for the _food_."

Serana bared her fangs. "That _food_ , as you so derisively call them, will be kicking down your door any minute now, and when they're done, not a single one of you will be left standing. Unless you surrender."

Orthjolf snarled. "Even _before_ I transcended mortality, I never surrendered. Especially not to my own cattle."

She smiled malevolently. "Then you'll die braver than most."

Serana twirled her dagger from its sheath and lunged for Orthjolf's legs, falling into a slide and slashing at his right knee. He shifted just enough to his left to dodge the blow and swung his axe downward like a pendulum to sweep the axe-head behind him. She rolled away from the strike and spun to face him as he advanced on her with superhuman speed. Serana stayed in a low stance and juked from side to side, dodging his blows by narrow margins as he kept advancing. Orthjolf may have been a brute, but he knew his fighting technique, and how to read the pattern of his opponent's movements.

So, when Serana dodged to the left, his right leg shot out to catch her across the shoulder, which knocked her into a backward tumble that threw her briefly off-balance. She caught herself with a one-handed handspring off the stones, into the air and away from a cleaving axe-blow meant for her neck. She landed in a coiled stance, ready to lunge in any direction as Orthjolf paced around her.

Serana eyed his step carefully. "Frankly, I'm surprised Vingalmo even came back. Thought Father would smell the stain on him for sure."

The Nord perked up at that. "Stain? What stain?"

Her teeth bared and gritted. "Taking what isn't his. Specifically, my blood."

Orthjolf's eyes widened, a feral grin splitting his features. "So _that's_ why he refused to show up to that meeting. And left not long after Lord Harkon requested his presence a second time." He laughed. "Oh, I'll enjoy finally being able to hunt that worm down." He pointed his axe at Serana. "But first to deal with blood traitors."

Her features softened. "Orthjolf, Harkon is _mad_ with power. You see it already. Everyone does. There's no true loyalty left in this house. Whether you want to admit it or not, you and the others only follow him out of fear."

"I fear _nothing_ , girl. With the Tyranny of the Sun ended, Harkon will ascend to godhood, and he'll bring us right along with him." He twirled his axe and deepened his stance slightly. "But _you_ will be left behind to wallow in the mire with your pets."

Her jaw clenched. "So be it."

Slowly, Serana rose to her full height (which, even with Orthjolf half-crouched, was still not enough to match the Nord's stature) and sheathed her dagger, her hand drifting to the left of her belt. Pale, slender fingers curled around a hilt of pure darkness, grasping it firmly and slowly drawing it upward. A grating metallic grind filled the air as she drew her blade for the very first time, watching with some dark satisfaction the way Orthjolf's eyes widened in wariness. Up until that point, his axe and longer arms had given him a major reach advantage, but with the thin, long blade of her sword and already-superior agility, that advantage was completely nullified.

She held her blade at chest level, pointed outward as they began pacing around each other. Her unoccupied hand sat on her hip, a confident smirk adorning her lips while Orthjolf was practically foaming at the mouth. They both came to a stop on opposite sides of the room, Serana shifting her blade to point diagonally at the ground next to her to build up power, then both charging for each other. She pulled back at the last second, the steel axe-head missing her nose by a fraction of a second while she used her sword's lower position to score a deep cut along the side of his left leg. Snarling, Orthjolf lunged forward with the butt of his axe and aimed it at her chest, but found himself stumbling past when she twirled her body to the left and swept out his rear leg with a trip-kick.

The stumble managed to slow him enough for Serana to score another hit on his back, a diagonal slice that nearly cut through his spine. He rolled away and twirled to face her, making two swings with his axe and finding the weapon smacked further away when he missed with the second strike, Serana bringing her sword to bear and nearly taking his head off with a snap-cut to the neck. What she didn't expect was that he'd be furious enough to grab the sword—by the blade—thereby stopping it midway through its motions. Orthjolf shifted all his weight forward, using his superior height and weight to attempt to overpower her. Ordinarily, such a tactic would've worked if A: she hadn't been expecting it, and B: he hadn't made a slight miscalculation.

Serana had dragon blood pumping through her veins.

A grin that was all teeth and cool malevolence split her face as Orthjolf used all his considerable strength to try and throw her backward. Nevertheless, she stood fast and used his lack of balance to throw him in the direction he'd wanted to toss her, specifically by abruptly stopping her resistance and leaning into a backward roll that took Orthjolf off his feet and placed him firmly onto her steel-toed boot. Which she then used to catapult him back-first into the wall behind her. Rolling with the same movement, Serana clambered to her feet and swept her blade left in a wide wing-block, catching the underside of Orthjolf's axe and countering with a wide cavalry cut that sliced him from shoulder to hip.

Glowing eyes wide, the Nord collapsed to his knees, gasping, and tried one more time to bury his axe in her chest. This time, _she_ was the one who caught his weapon, first with her left gauntlet blocking its head, then with her hand grasping the haft and yanking it from his grip. The point of her blade went to his chest a split-second later, pressing into his armor and threatening to break the skin as she held the hilt at chest height, tip pointed diagonally downward. Orthjolf's face was a study in shock.

"H-How did you—"

"My _man_ gives me more than just affection, Orthjolf. He makes me _stronger_." Serana smiled wider, eyes flashing with fire. "And for the record, _he_ would've chewed you up like honeyed bacon."

With a single turn of her hips, Serana thrust her ebony blade through his chest, causing him to shriek and tense up as a supernatural fire consumed him from within. His body was little more than ash moments later, leaving only Serana and a dimly lit room, with a sword coated in the dust of her enemy. Suddenly, a quiet scuff from behind alerted her to rapid movement, but she only turned halfway around before the _twang_ of a released bowstring was heard, followed immediately by a wet _thunk_. Serana's jaw dropped halfway open, her entire body frozen in place as she stared wide-eyed at the sight before her: Fura Bloodmouth, a taller Nord vampire, with a sword held out in an arm completely outstretched.

And a Dwarven crossbow bolt buried in her chest.

Dry sputtering came from the hostile vampire's throat for a few moments as she turned to ash, collapsing to the floor with her weapon a second later. Serana slowly turned to her right, to the passage leading to the cistern, and saw Agmaer standing in the doorway, empty crossbow held high and a determined scowl on his face. He calmly stepped through the doorway, smoothly loading a bolt onto the mount of his weapon as his eyes turned to meet Serana's.

"I already failed you once, milady." Agmaer's jaw tightened as he cranked the drawstring back with a satisfying click. "Never again."

Serana smiled and nodded to him, casting the dead vampire's ashes one last glance before sheathing her sword. "Get the others and send them through there, quickly."

She pointed to the now-open secret passageway, prompting Agmaer to nod and run off. A glint of light in her peripheral vision drew her attention to a narrow slit carved into the wall, revealing the first hints of sunlight streaming through. She frowned deeply.

"We don't have much time."

…

"All right, people, back up toward the boats. Let's go."

The entire Dawnguard gathered at the base of the hill stared at a wildly waving Lydia like she'd grown a second head, quickly followed by a third and fourth. Isran's gaze flickered from the Nord woman to Ketar's brooding profile a few times before he gave a nod of assent to his troops. They followed Lydia to the shoreline, the housecarl giving Ketar a nod once they were out of sight of the causeway. He nodded back and made his way toward the left side of the bridge, running down the rocky approach and leaping the gap to the other side of the small moat at the bottom. One last check behind him confirmed both that the Dawnguard were out of sight and that dawn was quickly approaching.

Frowning, Ketar reached to the pouch at the back of his belt and turned his eyes upward, toward a nearly vertical rock surface. His right hand slapped against his chest, Nocturnal's Embrace encasing his body in midnight-black armor. He pulled his hood up, mask going over his features as he leapt for the nearest crag. His fingers gripped an outcropping, one motion following the next as he climbed the rocks to the top of a boulder some fifteen feet above the gate. Crouching down, Ketar coiled up for a sprint, then broke off running and leapt toward the bridge. Moments before touching down, the Shadowcloak of Nocturnal wrapped the last shadows of dawn around him.

…

Lydia knew managing the entire Dawnguard would be something of a chore to do on her own, but since Isran gave his assent to their plan, she assumed there wouldn't be a problem. She never once thought that Isran himself would take a peek, but he did, and he was staring slack-jawed at the sight on the opposite end of the bridge. Lydia lunged toward him, trying to pull the Redguard back, but from the look on his face, the damage was already done. He stared her dead-on in the face.

"What… _is_ he?"

Lydia sighed and looked toward Ketar's vaguely shimmering form with no small amount of awe. "He's the hand of the gods on Nirn."

…

Ketar's ebony dagger flashed repeatedly, the two vampires opposing him hopelessly outmatched due to the combination of how hard he already was to see and the beginnings of the bright dawn light peeking over the mountains blinding them. One vampire swung toward his left shoulder, prompting him to juke to the right and lunge toward its chest. His ebony dagger pierced the vampire's heart, giving him an anchor point to swing and throw the rapidly decomposing vampire into his comrade. The explosion of ash over his face blinded him long enough for Ketar to slide toward his legs and kick out enough of his balance to knock him down into Ketar's upward-pointed dagger.

The second vampire dusted moments later, Ketar wiping the residue off his dagger, then sheathing it once more before pulling the Embrace off his chest. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline running through his system, but dawn seemed to rush toward them like lightning after that, daylight creeping over the parapets of Castle Volkihar as his heart thumped violently in his chest. Ketar ran to the edge of the gate, waiting for the thralls to come through before realizing—the ashes were still there. A sharp cry arose from the gate, and a wince pinched his features as the thralls sounded the alarm.

He had about half a second before the portcullis slammed shut and every gargoyle on the bridge woke up.

…

Among her colleagues (which basically meant any and all of Ketar's friends), it was fairly well-known that Lydia wasn't afraid of anything. Or, at least, that was widely believed. The truth, which she'd never admitted to anyone, and probably never would, was that she was afraid of just about everything. Spiders, trolls, and _especially_ dragons—all were secretly nightmares from her childhood that had followed her well into adulthood, into her days as housecarl. And yet, for all that, it never showed, even to the most perceptive around her. Why? Because (and she took particular pride in this fact) she was _crazy_.

Not crazy as in the fun, wild kind (although that was the case whenever she got a little drink in her) or crazy as in the vicious, bloodthirsty kind (though she could certainly get like that if incensed enough or in the middle of battle). No, at her core, deep in her bones, she was just _crazy_ ; absolutely, certifiably insane, but not all the time—just when she got scared. So scared that she put herself out of her mind and into a state of psychological frenzy that completely overwhelmed fear with this all-consuming psychosis. It made her want to laugh every time it triggered, loudly, uproariously, until everyone around her was concerned at her mental faculty—usually because something majorly dangerous was around.

The first time it ever happened was in the forest outside her family home in Whiterun Hold, near Riverwood. At only six years old, she'd been straying a bit too far from the house in search of pretty flowers, and ran afoul of an entire nest of wasps, who then proceeded to chase her through the trees. She'd screamed at the top of her lungs, repeatedly, both in pain and terror as they stung her over and over again, swarming around her violently. It wasn't until the sixth or eighth sting that she realized she'd stopped screaming—and running. A thick, long stick was in her hand, and she was swinging around wildly, every strike taking three or four of the vile things at once. And instead of shrieking at the top of her lungs, she was laughing, laughing so hard it hurt, so hard she began to cry, especially when she dropped to the ground with the last wasp.

Lydia honestly couldn't remember what happened after that to this day, only that the next thing she knew, she was holding that stick again and trotting through the woods eating the wasps' honey off its tip. Over the years, she'd learned to hone that ability. Her father called it a "berserker rage," a talent thought to be lost over the years, possessed by only the fiercest of Nordic warriors. He bought Lydia her first sword the day he learned about it. She used that sword as a culinary implement nowadays, but always kept it to remind herself of what she was, and of the constant control she had to exercise when she became afraid. The last thing she ever wanted to do was black out so badly that she turned her blade on her allies.

And it worked. Over the years, she'd honed her skills and mental control to the point where no one could even tell what was happening, that anything at all was off. Not even Ketar knew. Which, in retrospect, was probably a bad idea. She wondered why that had never occurred to her before, and made plans to tell him as soon as possible.

After this.

After she and the rest of the Dawnguard dealt with the eight gargoyles that had emerged on the bridge to Castle Volkihar and were currently rushing to swarm Ketar. Isran was a step behind her, but in that heavy armor, toting a massive warhammer, she was honestly surprised it was only a step.

"For the Dawnguard!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, prompting his entire force—armored trolls and all—to charge forward, getting the gargoyles' attention with the sheer volume of their approach.

The Dawnguard hit them from one side, Ketar the other. They never stood a chance. At least, not the first four. Lydia slashed one across the base of its spine when it tried to take a swipe at Isran, who then clubbed it to pieces. Gunmar and the Bosmer took another down with a few well-aimed arrows and axe-blows. A third was downed by two trolls who tackled it to the ground and exchanged blows with it for several seconds. At that point, it was just a battle of attrition, and with their armor and superior numbers, the trolls won out. And Ketar…Ketar was just a whirlwind of death. Apparently, he'd dealt with these things enough times to know their weaknesses, with one hand cutting through one's arm while his other channeled a spell that, when released, turned its entire right side to stone. Sunlight, she'd guess.

Considering Isran was also using some of that magic, she'd have wagered he learned it from the Dawnguard, but upon a second glance, it was almost as if Ketar's spell was more…pure. More refined. Whatever the case, the initial conflict was a major Dawnguard success, until the gargoyles began flying and taking passes at the bridge. And a half-dozen vampires dropped from the walls of the castle. Then the _real_ headache began, and they all settled down for a long, hard fight. A few minutes in, Isran shouted the question on everyone's minds.

"Where the hell is Serana?!"

…

As it turned out, Serana's stealth team had issues of their own to contend with. Namely, that they'd been detected and the gatehouse was being guarded by a vampire named for his talent with mental domination, Rargal Thrallmaster. He'd pulled out all the stops this time, with various Nords and other mortal races essentially forming a shield wall between them and the gate controls. And it was really starting to piss Serana off.

"Can't _believe_ this! Why the hell did I let Ketar stay behind?" Serana ducked behind cover as the Thrallmaster fired another ice spike in her direction, then retreated behind his thralls. "One ' _Fus-Ro-Dah_ ' and this would've been _over_ already!"

"A what?" asked Sorine.

"Don't worry about it," said Agmaer. "Just give me a clean shot on that vampire and I can disrupt the thralls' focus long enough for us to break through."

Serana grinned, all teeth, and stepped out of cover just as Rargal popped up to fire off another ice spike. She effortlessly caught it in her left hand, to his surprise, and cocked her head with an arched eyebrow. "Really? Is that the best you can do, Rargal? Hiding like a rat, scurrying into your safe little nest?"

The vampire bared his fangs and snarled, roaring as he unleashed a torrent of ice spikes, one after the next. For Serana, just a few weeks ago she would've had to work to avoid his attacks, but now, with all the practice she'd gained with Ketar—not to mention his dragon blood currently running through her—all she had to do was sidestep them one by one, at least at that range. Unfortunately for Rargal, Agmaer was a much better shot. That, and he'd apparently been acquiring more schematics for Sorine, because the crossbow he was using was a Dwarven composite complete with a rotary mechanism capable of rapidly loading and storing up to three bolts. Which he then dispensed into Rargal's chest in rapid succession.

The vampire burnt and faded to dust in moments, the thralls' shield wall quickly faltering as Sorine, Serana, and Celann charged their line. Serana alone was able to bowl two of them over, plowing through in a mad dash to the gate winch while the Dawnguard took care of the rest.

 _Hang on, Kay. I'm coming!_

…

It had been a very long time since Ketar and Lydia had fought back-to-back as Thane and housecarl, and he had to admit, much as he enjoyed having Serana around, he missed his one-on-one time with Lydia. Especially when they both cut loose and tore into everything around them. Ketar had been separated from the rest of the Dawnguard from the start of the battle, so it was no surprise when he quickly found himself surrounded by undead and gargoyles. What was a surprise (well, not really) was that Lydia had used one of the Dawnguard's shields as a springboard to launch herself over the enemy lines to Ketar's side. Her steel-plated back pressed against his enchanted leather-clad one as they both twirled their weapons into ready positions, Lydia with a low stance, sword held horizontally and braced against the top of her shield.

They moved in a circle, completely surrounded yet without a single gap in their defenses as Ketar used magic and might to repel the enemy from his end while Lydia's Spellbreaker shield kept their vampiric magic at bay. Within seconds of their united fight's initiation, they fell into an old, familiar pattern of movements that flowed one into the next, effortlessly, like they'd been fighting together all their lives. Metaphorically speaking, they had, since his time in Skyrim was practically another life altogether. Lydia was the first friend he made here, and the closest, so when they fought together, the enemy had two choices. First: to be brave (or stupid) and charge forth with arms held high. Second: run.

These vampires were either too stupid or arrogant to take the second option. So they had to die.

A sideways parry with Dragonborn's Fury brought a vampire within range of Lydia's Chillrend, which stabbed through its body and froze even its cold-resistant form solid. Spellbreaker prevented an incoming ice spike and vampiric drain from reaching Ketar while he dealt with a pair of skeletons, his razor-sharp sword cleaving through their bones as if cutting through paper. Still, more were coming over the wall, and a brief glance toward the Dawnguard's lines confirmed that they were losing this war of attrition. One of their trolls had fallen to a swarm of armored skeletons, and two fully-armored Dawnguard were crushed in their metal shells when gargoyles swooped in from above and landed on them full-force. If he had to guess, it was like having the full weight of a stone statue drop on them at once.

Needless to say, with more undead monsters pouring from the castle walls and the portcullis closed, the Dawnguard were exposed and swiftly becoming outnumbered. So Ketar decided it was time to even the odds, and leapt for the edge of the causeway while pulling Zephyr from his belt. An ebony arrow was fired into the side of the bridge, towing a magical tether, and allowed him to swing under the arch into a small alcove at the water's edge. He faced the shoreline and channeled the power within, taking a deep breath.

" _Dur-Neh-Viir_!"

Once again, a massive explosion of dark violet energy split the air before him as the rotting form of his undead dragon ally came into existence. Durnehviir appeared to gain awareness of what was happening much quicker this time, and shot Ketar a look before the Dragonborn nodded to him.

…

Isran had witnessed a lot of strange things in his time, things that not many people would believe and even fewer had seen. An undead dragon arising from a bay with a leather-armored Breton hanging from the back of his tail might just have taken the cake. Especially when that Breton dropped from twenty feet up to land feet—and sword—first on a charging vampire, its undead body dusting even as he moved onto his next target. Casting a wary eye on the roaring dragon currently making its way back around, Isran refocused on the battle and clubbed a gargoyle in the knee, forcing it into a low stance, then caving in its head with an overhead strike.

It collapsed to stone as a deep, booming voice was heard over the din of battle.

" _Diil-Qoth-Zaam_!"

Immediately, black, shimmering undead skeletons clawed their way from the ground, brandishing weapons and spells and throwing themselves into the enemy. Isran cast a look at them, then at the dragon, who was making passes at the castle wall and swiping undead into the air before they could join the fray. And then he cast his eyes onto the man who summoned them, who was standing in the middle of a horde of monsters and men, fighting like a demon possessed, his weapons little more than dark blurs in the early dawn light. The sapphire of his sword glowed with otherworldly power, as did the ring on his right hand, and the longer he fought, the more Isran began to doubt the integrity of his own mind. And then he remembered what Lydia told him earlier.

 _Men like him aren't supposed to exist except in myth and legend. To think he's here, now…Stendarr help us if I've lived to see the day when the gods must again send their children to fight our battles._

…

It was with a massive heave that Serana finally got the portcullis controls to move. Someone had reconfigured the winch and counterweight system such that only those of considerable strength could even operate it—or a team of weaker beings. As it stood, her Dawnguard backup was still busy with the castle's internal defenses, which left her alone to handle the portcullis. And she did. Once it was moving, the winch was easy enough to operate, even if the friction fought her at every step. Only about fifteen seconds after she'd gotten her hands on the wheel, the portcullis was completely up, and the castle's defenses cracked wide open.

…

Ketar saw the gate's exposure a second before Isran called out, "They did it! Push forward!"

He saw the gate open and pour forth a flood of skeletons and vampires a moment later, far too numerous for the diminished Dawnguard to take on in their state, even with the help of Ketar and Durnehviir, whose time in Nirn was quickly running out. Honestly, it was better that way. He got the feeling that what he had in mind was going to hurt the dragon as much as the rest of the monsters on that bridge.

"Apparently Harkon's been on a recruiting drive," said Lydia.

Ketar smirked malevolently as she sidled up next to him, covered in ash and stone dust pasted to her face with a smattering of blood from a gash in her forehead.

"It won't do him much good," he said. "In fact, sending all his troops out here like this has to be the dumbest mistake he's made all month."

Gunmar cast him an alarmed look. "How do you figure?"

Ketar cocked his head and sheathed the Fury, stepping to the front of the line, closest to the enemy, and calmly opening the rift. Moments later, a sword made of gold metal and pure holy light emerged from the portal and landed in his grip.

Lydia's eyes went wide in recognition as she shouted, "Everyone shield your eyes!"

And then Ketar charged for the center of the enemy ranks, tackling an incoming vampire with a shoulder to the chest, then bringing Dawnbreaker to an underhanded position and priming it up for an impaling strike. With a furious roar, he brought the weapon down like a stake, piercing through the fiend's heart and causing a loud sizzle of burning flesh to come from below as his eyes flashed with fire.

And a distinct click from the sword's jeweled hilt unleashed Meridia's wrath.

The cross-guard of Dawnbreaker opened like a gateway, and from the other side came a deafening explosion of blinding light, pulsing and overtaking the far side of the bridge and the entire enemy force with a wave of holy magic. One by one, two by two, droves of undead and gargoyles burnt up and turned to dust or petrified and crumbled in the wake of Dawnbreaker's fury. For the briefest of moments, Ketar could've sworn he heard Meridia's voice in the spell's roar, condemning those possessed of a mockery of life to eternal death. Then, finally, the sword's jewel clicked shut, and Ketar half-collapsed to the ground, leaning heavily on its hilt. Lydia rushed to his side in concern, but he waved her off, taking a blue vial from his belt and chugging it down in one go.

Lydia shot him a deadpan glare. "You tapped into your magicka reserves again, didn't you?"

He looked up at her. "To maintain the spell for that long? You bet." Slowly, he rose to his feet and pulled the sword loose, noting several chunks of stone falling loose from where he'd driven it into the bridge.

"Glad to see I'm not the _only_ one that gets annoyed at him for that."

All eyes instantly went to the castle wall, where, on the second floor, Serana stood in one of the windows, dark armor gleaming in the early dawn sunlight and hair streaming in the wind. Ketar's jaw dropped halfway before he caught himself and cleared his throat in an attempt to retain his dignity. Lydia's smirk told him he'd been unsuccessful. Serana leapt from the wall and landed in a pile of dust, though of bone or vampire he couldn't tell. All he could see was her, walking toward him, unsullied, through the wreckage of battle, like a dark angel. They stopped in front of each other, around the bridge's far side, as the Dawnguard rushed past and into the keep of Castle Volkihar.

Ketar blinked a few times, staring at her, then shifted his gaze to the portcullis. "How'd you keep it open?"

She waved dismissively. "Thick wooden block I had on hand. I would've used one of their thralls, but honestly, I don't think they could've stood up to the weight."

He chuckled a bit, then reached out to cup her cheek, glancing behind her to see most of the Dawnguard's remaining forces storming the fortress. "I should go."

"Yeah, we should—" Serana's features shifted as she recognized something in his. "Wait, what are you—"

Ketar's ring flashed with blue light as he performed a telekinetic spell on the wooden block holding the winch open, knocking it loose and sending the portcullis crashing back down. " _Wuld_!"

His Whirlwind Sprint carried him inside the gate just as the grate slammed shut, and an alarmed Serana charged toward the entrance, slamming her hands against the thick iron bars.

"Kay— _Kay_! What do you think you're doing?"

He frowned and turned to face her, touching her hand through the bars. "I'm sorry, Sera, but this is something I have to do myself."

Her eyes widened. "You never planned to let me fight Harkon."

His jaw tightened for a moment before he turned away and began striding into the castle.

"Kay, don't do this. You don't know what he's capable of!"

Ketar stopped short and looked over his shoulder at her. "Maybe not. But I know what _I'm_ capable of." His eyes flickered to the side. "Look after her…please."

To Serana's right stood Lydia, frowning just as deeply as her. "Yes, my Thane," she conceded grudgingly.

"Ketar," Sera pleaded. "Don't! He's my family! _My_ responsibility!"

He cast her one last look. "Not anymore. Stay safe, Sera. I'll see you soon." He paused. "I love you."

Serana just stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. "Ketar." She tried to lift the entire portcullis with brute strength alone and failed. "Kay. _Kay_!"

Ketar just clenched his jaw and fists, forcing himself to ignore her pleas as he entered the keep and followed the trail of darkness to its end.

* * *

AN: Small cliffhanger on this one, but only because I needed to split up the chapter into two. The next chapter is about as long as this one, so don't worry. Plenty more to come. Review ASAP and I'll have the last piece of the final quest out soon. I won't say anything more until next chapter.

 _Oya vode._

\- CDrake

Oh, and P.S.: Happy Fourth of July!

Musical Inspirations:

Dragon Age: Inquisition - Seige of Adamant: "For the Dawnguard!"/gargoyle fight/vampires drop in  
Thor: The Dark World - Invasion of Asgard: start-0:50—Serana and Agmaer take out Thrallmaster/dash to the portcullis, 0:50-1:10—back-to-back, 1:10-1:35—Thane and housecarl fight as one, 1:35-2:18—summoning Durnehviir/children of the gods, 2:18-2:37—gate opens/second wave/"Shield your eyes!", 2:37-end—Ketar's charge/Dawnbreaker unleashed


	21. Kindred Judgment, Part II

The Last Dragonborn, son of Akatosh, Arch-Mage of Winterhold, Master of the Thieves' Guild, and Listener of the Dark Brotherhood; walked the bloodstained halls of Castle Volkihar like a stone come to life. All around him, death and darkness rained down from the bolts and axes of the Dawnguard, from the claws of gargoyles and fangs of vampires. Magic, steel, and unnatural implements combined to form a chaotic mixture of pain and death, and yet none of it came close to touching him. No, he walked through the middle of it all, as if separated from them by a curtain, following a thread of pure darkness that led him across the great hall of Castle Volkihar.

It led him up the left-side set of stairs, past two Dawnguard pinning down a vampire and taking his head off, down a long hall and around a corner, to an ominous set of double-doors. He stopped before the massive wooden portal, frowning deeply as the darkness permeated every inch of his senses. His Breton blood, so finely attuned to magic, had detected both Minorne and Vyrthur's manipulations this past month alone, but this…this was something else entirely. There was something in the air that was just… _wrong_.

With a tightening of his fingers and a deep breath, Ketar reached out with both hands and pushed the doors open, the air still and silent but for the creak of old hinges.

…

Lord Harkon, the self-proclaimed king of all vampires in Skyrim, stood facing away from the door, eyes instead on a large shrine of Molag Bal at the far end of a darkened room. A chapel or cathedral, if Ketar had to guess, and one dedicated to perhaps his least favorite Daedra. Actually, considering the ones he'd encountered—and the children of the same—Molag Bal was now _definitely_ his least favorite Daedra. Not only was the shrine black and horned and creepy as hell, but it was operating almost like a fountain, only the liquid cycling through it was not water, but blood. He could smell hints of copper even from forty feet away.

Ketar took in the rest of the cathedral as the doors closed behind him. Stairs on either side of him led up to identical, if ruined, balconies, with statues or gargoyles mirrored on the approaches to both. The light in the room was limited to what little sun was streaming in through thin windows along the upper walls, and the half-collapsed state of the place gave the room a decayed, ominous feel. As if the structure itself were hostile. He was snapped from his musings by a deep, booming voice he hadn't heard in more than a month.

"I exile you from my keep, so you come back and break the door down?"

Ketar stared at Harkon's back, clad in full royal regalia with a jewel-encrusted goblet in his hand. His head cocked slightly as he answered. "You say that like you operate with more subtlety. You don't."

Harkon chuckled lowly. "I suppose that's fair." He shrugged. "Still, it shows a great deal of confidence for a mere mortal. I feel as though I should applaud you for that at least."

Ketar's jaw tightened. "You know why I'm here."

He laughed darkly and swirled the contents of his cup. "Of course I do." He took a long sip from the cup, still staring at the shrine. "And it appears I have you to thank for turning my daughter against me. I knew it was only a matter of time before she'd return with hatred in her heart."

"Hatred born of your neglect," Ketar replied testily.

Harkon glanced over his shoulder. "A small price to pay for the betterment of our kind."

He snorted. "Your kind? Harkon, your kind is a _blight_ on this world."

The ancient vampire lord laughed loudly, turning to face Ketar with madness in his inhuman eyes. "Yes, yes, of _course_. Always the noble vampire hunter. And what happens when you've slain me? Is Valerica next? Is _Serana_?"

Ketar's eyes flashed with fire. "I would _never_ be able to hurt Serana in the ways _either_ of you have, much less bring a hand to harm her physically." He smiled nastily. "And when I say 'your kind,' I don't mean vampires. I mean monsters." He nodded to Harkon. "You and I have both lived long enough to know _those_ come in all shapes and sizes."

Harkon snorted. "Come now. If you've truly lived long enough to learn valuable lessons, I'm sure you know that all power worth having comes with a price. In the case of immortality, that price is life." Harkon took another draught from his goblet, which Ketar could tell was filled with blood. "In my case, the lives of a thousand innocents." He swirled the contents of the cup. "That was the price demanded of me, and I paid it gladly, for the sake of my family." He took another long sip, slowly, eyes fiery and upper lip twitching as he strode toward Ketar. "And now, I _have_ no family." He finished the goblet's contents, then cast it aside with a series of clangs. "My wife was a lost cause a long time ago, I knew that, but when Serana returned…I thought that perhaps there was still a chance. A chance to rebuild what I thought I'd lost." He snarled, baring his fangs. "But you took that from me."

Ketar stared him dead-on, features impassive but eyes intense and furious. "I didn't take anything you hadn't already cast off."

"I _tried_ to bring her back into the fold!" he roared. "But you and your wiles seduced my daughter away from her true path!"

"Her true path is supposed to be what she _chooses_!" Ketar shouted back, features twisting in fury as he gesticulated. "You? And Valerica? You never gave her a choice." He pointed an accusing finger at Harkon. "You used her to satisfy your own vile cravings and ambition." He smiled nastily. "You say that you made the deal with Bal for the sake of your family, but I don't think that's true. Or if it was, somewhere along the way, you lost sight of that." His features set firmly. "Because a man who values his family above all else doesn't sacrifice them for the sake of power.

"You told me that power has a cost, and you paid it already, to make those closest to you immortal." Ketar's eyes narrowed. "But that wasn't enough, was it? Being immortal and powerful wasn't enough. No, you wanted to become a _god_ , so you latched onto the prophecy and pursued it at all costs, everything and every _one_ else in your life be damned."

"I'd do it again in a _heartbeat_." He puffed his chest out in superiority. "And so I shall. After I kill you, I will dispense of these petty mortals and complete the prophecy. Because of you, Serana will likely refuse to come quietly, so I'll keep her here, _protected_ , until she sees reason." Harkon smiled nastily, all teeth. "Take that knowledge with you to Sovngarde, or whatever foolish idea of an afterlife you pathetic mortals cling to."

Ketar stared at him for a few moments before chuckling darkly, head shaking. "Wow. That's…wow." His left hand surreptitiously began to drift to the back of his belt as he saw Harkon's jaw clench. "You _really_ want to blame me for Serana leaving, don't you?" He shrugged. "Fine. Go ahead. But the truth is, you lost her loyalty _centuries_ ago, and deep down, you know that." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "You lost Serana the moment you started thinking of her as a tool…and stopped thinking of her as your daughter. So really, for everything that happened after," he smirked malevolently, "you have no one to blame but yourself. And _you_ can take that knowledge with you all the way to Coldharbour…" his fingers wrapped around something hard and metallic in his back pouch, eyes flashing with fire, "you son of a bitch."

Immediately, Ketar slapped Nocturnal's Embrace to his chest and drew his sword as Harkon gave a feral roar, reached to his left hip, and lunged forward. They met in the middle, dragonbone meeting metal as Harkon's katana ground against Dragonborn's Fury. Both stared the other in the eye, fury evident in their features until they pushed apart, snapping to opposite ends of the room and twirling their blades into ready stances. Harkon had adopted a one-handed, low-angled fencing stance, Ketar crouched down with his blade pointed two-handedly outward, one hand drifting up to pull the hood around his features. The tension in the air built to a boiling point, to where it could be cut with their swords, and then something snapped within them, and they both surged forward, meeting in the middle with an explosion of sparks and rage.

…

It was bordering on ten minutes that Serana had been hammering on the portcullis. Not even her sword or magic was making a dent. The gate had obviously been enchanted with something to make it so resilient, and frankly, it was _really_ starting to piss her off. Well, she was already pissed off at Ketar for doing something so _stupid_ , and now this gate was in her way, courting her not-inconsiderable wrath, and…and then something occurred to her as she glanced back at the rising sun. Her lips pursed.

 _This is gonna suck, but…got no other choice._

Closing her eyes, Serana winced as the sun's irritation burned five times harder than usual—mainly so because she was increasingly vulnerable to its effects while transforming to her vampire lord form. Which she did, to Lydia's astonishment. She realized why when Serana vanished into a swarm of bats, which flew through the grating and reassembled on the other side.

Gaping, Lydia stared at her for a moment before speaking. "Well that's handy. Mind giving me some help inside?"

"Find your own way in," she replied testily, voice rough and altered by her transformation. "And you better do it fast, because after I save him from Harkon…" Serana kept scowling and walking as she transformed back to human form, "there might not be much left."

…

Ketar's back hit a wall a moment before he ducked and rolled away from a horizontal strike that would've cleaved his head off. Instead, it carved a deep gash into the stones, made wider when Harkon yanked his blade loose and kept pursuing him. One, two, three rapid strikes came in and were dodged or parried before Ketar countered with an upward slash and spinning blow aimed at Harkon's neck. The vampire lord nimbly ducked and lunged forward with a one-handed stab at Ketar's midsection, an attack barely avoided when he threw his hips backward and used Harkon's forward momentum to throw him off-balance. That lack of balance lasted for the briefest of moments, Harkon quickly readjusting and leaping twenty feet over his follow-up strike.

When he came down, it was on a balcony above, where he lowered his sword to stand it tip-down at his side like a cane, then waved with his empty hand and shattered the outer skins of the room's gargoyles. Rolling his eyes, Ketar sheathed the Fury and drew his Nightingale Bow, unloading one arrow after another into the two magical constructs. One of them managed to close half the distance while airborne before he nailed it between the eyes. The other found itself on the wrong end of his Unrelenting Force Shout, and was dashed to pieces against a far wall. An instinctive nudge from behind prompted Ketar to lunge forward into a roll and whirl around, bringing his bow up just in time to block a follow-up overhead strike from Harkon.

He struggled and grunted against Harkon's superior position for a few seconds, feeling his grip failing with every passing moment and shifting his body just enough to the side for the blade to miss him when he let his arms go limp. The bow clattered to the ground as Harkon's sword-tip buried itself in the stones and Ketar lunged for his heart with the Blade of Woe. The lord grabbed his stabbing wrist and held it back, struggling with him for a moment before freeing his sword and driving the pommel upward into Ketar's lower gut. The hit winded him for a second, and he struggled to maintain his composure as Harkon rained down vertical strikes. One after another, the katana skidded off his dagger, his other hand drawing the ebony one on his hip and slashing at Harkon's exposed right side.

The vampire pivoted to the side in a wing-block that deflected the blow, but his single step of withdrawal opened him up to a flurry of offensive, rapid-fire dagger strikes from Ketar that drove him back toward the stairs. Ketar twirled his ebony dagger to build power for a flick at Harkon's neck, a blow easily avoided, but the dodge gave him time to sheathe the Blade of Woe and draw his Nightingale Blade. The sword expanded into existence with a series of clangs, sweeping at Harkon's legs as the vampire leapt the last few stairs to the top. Sword held one-handed, Harkon faced off with the Dragonborn as Ketar adopted a low, catlike stance, dagger held underhandedly in his left hand while his right bore the Nightingale Blade in a horizontal guard.

The look on Harkon's face was pure madness—he was _enjoying_ this. It was as if he hadn't had a real challenge in lifetimes—which, Ketar realized, was likely true, what with how rarely he went out and how his subordinates constantly kowtowed to him. The ebony dagger came up to block a horizontal strike while Ketar snapped his right wrist for a quick cut to the shoulder. Harkon grabbed the wrist of his incoming sword-arm and attempted to twist it, but Ketar followed with a low kick to the side of the knee that forced him off-balance. The Dragonborn pivoted his hips with a stab aimed for Harkon's chest, the blade skidding and grinding against Harkon's when he snapped his torso backward and brought his katana to a vertical position to deflect the strike.

Still, Ketar kept up the pressure, using his dagger to hit Harkon from one side while his sword claimed the other. All his strikes were effortlessly blocked, if by a narrow margin, demonstrating Harkon's considerable skill with a blade. As if to expand on this point, Harkon parried a sword-stab with his katana and swept it in a wide circle, also diverting Ketar's follow-up attack with his dagger. Continuing the motion, Harkon jerked his wrist in a sharp motion, snapping the Nightingale Blade from his grip and throwing it through the air to land on the ground floor near the center of the room. Grinning madly, Harkon lunged forward claws-first, sword occupying Ketar's dagger as his hand wrapped around the Dragonborn's throat.

Grunting and choking, Ketar grabbed Harkon's grasping wrist and pivoted to his right, toward a wall, in an attempt to break the vampire's grip; but only succeeded in getting himself into an even tighter hold when Harkon managed to get his entire arm around Ketar's neck. Gasping for air, Ketar felt a massive pressure building in his head for a few moments before he kicked out and found purchase on the wall in front of him. Legs moving rapidly, he ran up its surface and backflipped off and out of Harkon's grip, the hand on the vampire's wrist held fast, and was used as an anchor point to use his momentum and fling Harkon from the balcony. Ketar rolled upon impact with the next surface down, which was a small raised platform just above ground floor.

Dragonborn's Fury left its sheath as his ebony dagger went back to his hip, Ketar leaping from the platform toward a recovering Harkon with a falling overhead strike and missing his head by a hairsbreadth when he twisted his body around the blade. The enchanted dragonbone carved through the stone even more easily than Harkon's katana, and left it the same way, Ketar spinning counterclockwise to swipe at the vampire lord's next position. Harkon withdrew just far enough for the strike to miss him, then used his sword to keep the Fury's momentum going past his body and lunged forward in a stab at Ketar's exposed gut.

Ketar caught the blade on his hilt, in the space between the pommel and his hand, and shunted it to the right before slashing horizontally in the same movement, actually managing to score a hit on Harkon's right arm, a deep gash that sizzled with the effect of the Dawnguard runes he scored into the blade. The vampire lord withdrew a few steps, staring down at the injury in disbelief for just a second before returning his gaze to Ketar.

And then there was only rage.

Lightning-fast blows rained down one after the other, in rapid, unending sequence, hammering Ketar's defenses and depleting his strength little by little until a powerful reverse strike to the space just above the Fury's cross-guard separated Ketar from the weapon. It flew off to the side, clattering on the stones with a hollow sound that declared death to the one who'd lost it. Harkon lunged forward, Ketar just managing to stop his attack with the Blade of Woe but still having to use both hands to hold him back, one holding the dagger, the other on Harkon's hilt. The vampire lord was relentless, steadily pushing him back, then lunging forward and slamming him into the wall furthest from the altar. He had Ketar pinned with his sword, the edge of the curved blade drawing ever closer to his chest as Harkon kept pushing.

The vampire lord used one hand to keep the sword in place, then reached up with his other and slowly pulled Ketar's hood back to reveal his red, sweating face, bruises and small cuts dotting his features.

Harkon chuckled darkly. "I must applaud you, boy. You've given me the first real fight I've had in _centuries_." His glowing eyes flashed with madness. "But 'almost' does not make you worthy of my daughter." Harkon's head cocked slightly. "Before he fled, Vingalmo informed me that you gave Serana your blood." Before Ketar's eyes, Harkon's fangs began to grow slightly in size. "I believe I'd like to see what all the fuss is about." Harkon grinned widely, baring his fangs and opening his jaw wide as his head reared up for a lunge at Ketar's neck.

This was it, it was over. Ketar was almost completely exerted and absolutely out of breath. He couldn't push Harkon off, couldn't build up enough power or air to Shout, and had no free hands with which to cast spells. Once Harkon fed from his blood, he'd be faster, stronger, and the wound on his arm would likely heal instantaneously. By contrast, Ketar would be severely weakened—if Harkon left any blood in his system—and much, much slower. He'd gone toe-to-toe with an ancient enemy, one demigod against another, and he'd lost. One last defiant glare was all he had to give before the end.

Someone else had other ideas.

Out of absolutely nowhere, a living shadow, massive and otherworldly, tackled Harkon from the side and pinned him to a far wall. Ketar coughed and gasped for breath as he collapsed to the ground, back against the wall behind him for support, his vision sharpening just enough to see a large winged form roaring in Harkon's face, like a gargoyle, but slim and lithe.

And frighteningly familiar.

Ketar's eyes widened as Harkon's sword was forcibly wrenched from his grasp and driven through his lower chest, effectively pinning him to the stone wall at his back before the figure stood up and backed away from the impaled vampire lord. Harkon struggled and yanked at the katana's hilt, trying to dislodge it, but Ketar had eyes only for the other form, whose head jerked to face and fix him with a piercing, inhuman glare. Ketar's dark blue eyes widened as he recognized that sunset-colored hue, dread rising in his chest when she started walking toward him and not diminishing in the slightest when she shifted to human form.

All the breath rushed from his lungs when she grabbed him by the collar and pinned him to the wall.

"You," she snarled.

Ketar gulped.

"You spineless, _soulless_ son of a bitch." Serana got up in his face, hoisting him off the ground. "How _dare_ you lock me out!" She bared her fangs. "You better thank Akatosh, or Meridia, or whoever the hell you like that Harkon didn't kill you. And _then_ , you better start praying that they save you when all this is over, because _I will_!"

A low chuckle came from Harkon's direction. "Serana, my darling. I see you still favor keeping a pet."

She snapped a finger in his direction and barked, " _Shut up_! I will deal with _you_ in a minute!" Her eyes stayed fixed on Ketar's the whole time. "And _you_ …"

"Sera—" he began pleadingly.

"Do _not_ 'Sera' me. _Don't_ you dare." She scowled. "You left me out there. My father, the one person I'm supposed to stop, and you took that from my hands."

"To protect you—"

" _Exactly_!" Serana roared. "Just. Like. Valerica."

Ketar's eyes widened.

Her eyes softened just a bit with hurt as she lowered him to the ground. "You're such a _hypocrite_. Back in the Soul Cairn, you yelled me into submission for running off and fighting on my own, yet right now, you did the _exact_ same thing."

His jaw tightened. "Why does it have to be you?"

"Because he's _my_ father…" Serana's gaze hardened, "and it's _my_ responsibility to protect _you_ from my screwed-up family." She cast a glance at Harkon, who was just starting to pull his sword loose. "Especially when I should've dealt with him a _long_ time ago." She stared at her father for a few more moments before her gaze snapped back to Ketar, which caused him to jump. "When we're done here, you and I are going to have a _long_ talk." Her eyes narrowed. "And it's gonna get loud."

Ketar winced. "Yeah…pretty sure I owe you that."

She snorted derisively. "Damn right you do."

"…does that mean you're _not_ going to kill me?"

Serana threw him a glance and rolled her eyes. "The verdict's still out."

…

And with that, she turned to Harkon, who had finally removed the sword from the wall and begun to stand. "So here we are at last, no more false faces."

Harkon frowned and shook his head disapprovingly. "You disappoint me, Serana. You've taken everything I've provided for you and thrown it all away for this pathetic mortal."

Serana stared at him incredulously. "Everything you've—" her eyes rolled, "—oh you've gotta be kidding me. Are you _insane_?" She held up a hand to stop him. "Wait, no—don't answer that. I already know." Her eyes hardened and smoldered. "You destroyed our family, killed other vampires, _slaughtered_ innocents without cause, all over some prophecy we barely understand—that was _invented_ by a madman." She laughed derisively. "How fitting then that you'd fall prey to it." Her head shook slowly. "No more. I'm done with you." Her fangs bared. "You will not touch him again."

Harkon glanced between Sera and Ketar, who had retrieved his swords and was standing next to Serana. "So, I see this dragon has fangs." His head cocked. "Your voice _drips_ with the venom of your mother's influence." He chuckled darkly. "How alike you've become."

Serana smiled malevolently. "No." Her head cocked. "Because unlike her…" she slowly drew her sword, pointing it out at him, "I'm not afraid of you." Her dagger twirled from its sheath into her left hand. "Not anymore."

Serana took a low ready stance with both her weapons, Ketar standing next to her with his swords crossed in front of him. Harkon glanced between them, a hint of sorrow in his eyes when they flickered over Serana, but quickly vanishing as the madness returned and he bowed his head slightly.

"So be it…"

Suddenly, the blood of the altar surged forth and swarmed around Harkon's body, enveloping him in a dark red haze not unlike the aura created by Serana's transformation. What emerged seconds later sent both of their eyebrows skyrocketing: a vampire lord, similar in appearance to what Harkon had shown Ketar the last time they'd met, but ultimately far more menacing, with dark metal armor similar in color to what Serana was wearing, but recognizably Daedric in style; laid over Harkon's arms, shins, and vital areas. Of those vital areas, only the head was left exposed, and there, his crown sat as prominent as ever, a symbol of his arrogance and pride.

"Well," said Ketar nervously, "that's new."

No more words were exchanged.

Harkon was deadly serious, and beyond the point of reason or negotiation. And his sword was still drawn and sitting in his right hand. So, when he exploded into a swarm of bats twice the size of anything Serana had turned into, she did the first thing that came to mind and dove to the side. Ketar followed her example in the opposite direction, his swords going into their respective storage points as he retrieved his Nightingale Bow and began unloading ebony shots into Harkon's direction as soon as he regained physical form. He laughed, a harsh, vile sound that echoed across the stones; and transformed into another bat swarm, folding and spiraling around Ketar until he stopped firing, then materializing in front of him and lunging forward in a stab.

Ketar just managed to bring his bow into the path of Harkon's blade, catching it on the hilt with his arms fully outstretched, just enough to keep it from skewering him. Serana lunged at her father's back, surprised when one of his wings (which were now sporting metal armor that acted as blades) swung in her direction and nearly sheared through one of her pauldrons. He whirled on Serana with his sword and claws, the razor-sharp implements skidding off her sword-blade one after the other as she desperately deflected his assault. Three rapid shots from Ketar buried themselves in Harkon's back, but that only seemed to piss him off more than anything else. He broke them off with one of his wings, then whipped Serana in the face with the other and flew toward Ketar at maximum speed.

Clutching her bleeding cheek, Sera snarled and ran at Harkon's back, lunging forth as he bore down on Ketar and underhandedly burying her dagger in his back. Her father roared and clawed at his back, trying to dislodge her, but she'd deliberately struck a point she knew he couldn't easily reach, forcing him to use his wings to try and smack her off. The moment he did so, his flight pattern was disrupted, a fact Serana took full advantage of to ram him into one of the balconies' support pillars. Snarling, Harkon swung both wings back on impact and slammed her full-on in the chest, sending her flying across the room.

Ketar caught her on the way down, helping her to land softly, then shoving her away when Harkon sprung off the pillar and dove toward them sword-first, his other hand firing off a spell that telekinetically grabbed Serana and flung her against an opposing pillar. Ketar was his next victim after he tried to hit Harkon with his bow and swung through a horde of bats instead. The swarm carried Ketar into the air and flung him against a high wall, Harkon's body materializing a small distance away a moment later and holding him there with the spell he'd just used on Serana. As Sera scrambled to regain her footing, she could make out Ketar grimacing, but with a confident smirk on his features.

"Combined your vampiric drain with a telekinesis spell," Ketar managed between heaves of breath, "impressive." He grinned. "I've got a few tricks of my own."

His unarmed hands came up between him and Harkon, channeling a ward spell Serana had seen him use once before, in the Soul Cairn. Instantly, Harkon was recoiling and trying to regain his hovering air currents as Ketar dropped to the floor. Serana noticed for the first time that his body had made a small crater in the wall and wondered, not for the first time that day, how many bones he'd already broken.

Harkon, on the other hand, was wondering something entirely different. "W-What? How did you—"

"You like that?" Ketar asked venomously. "I call it 'Shalidor's Mirror,' an ancient spell of Nord origin that I rediscovered while exploring Labyrinthian." He held up his left hand, which was still glowing with the spell's residue. "Complete magical reflection of anything cast at me."

Serana's eyes widened. _Then that means—_

"Been a while since I've felt the beneficial effects of that _particular_ spell," Kay continued as he sent a plasma bolt into a recovering Harkon's left shoulder. "If I'm being perfectly frank—" he snarled, "—I never wanted to again."

The transformed vampire lord snarled and gripped his burnt shoulder, staring wide-eyed at the hole in his armor, then shifting his gaze back to Ketar, who was grinning like a madman.

"As I told your estranged wife…" Ketar's teeth bared, "you have no _idea_ the power I wield. Or who—I—am." He outstretched his empty hands to his sides. "Allow me to _show_ you."

Serana's eyes widened as she scrambled to get out of the path of what Ketar was going to unleash in Harkon's direction. She just managed to leap away in time before she heard, saw—and felt—what he'd done to Ulfric at Windhelm.

Turned up to eleven.

" _Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau_!" Ketar's features and eyes were laced with pure, burning fury as he Spoke. " _Naal Thu'um se Sadon'klov, zu kodaav nii ko naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth_!"

Serana stared at him awestruck, his Voice booming and shaking the very foundation of the castle as Harkon was, with every word, driven further and further to his knees. Still, Ketar wasn't done, and took one final breath before unleashing the full power of his Voice.

" _Zu'u Ysmir, Dovahsebrom_! _Dahmaan daar rok_!" Ketar's entire form seemed to shimmer with pure starlight as he uttered his final Words. " _Zu'u Dovahkiin, faal joor haal do Akatosh_!"

Serana's inhumanly sensitive ears were ringing long after he'd stopped Speaking, and she wasn't even in the direct line of his Speech. She could only imagine how painful that was for her fa—for Harkon. All the same, he forced himself to stand after a few moments, albeit shakily, and stared Ketar full-on in the face with defiance in his glowing eyes.

"Is that all you've got?"

Ketar exchanged a look with Serana before drawing Dragonborn's Fury and charging Harkon straight-on. Serana, on the other hand, took the hint and made for one of the balconies, her legs rapidly carrying her up the steps to an overlook, where she intended to ambush Harkon from the side. Harkon and Ketar tangled blade-to-claw, the elder vampire having lost his sword somewhere during the Dragonborn's ear-splitting declaration. It didn't deter Harkon any more than if he'd still had his katana. Point of fact, he caught Ketar's sword by the blade more than once, and it didn't even faze him.

Ketar deflected several claw swipes from three different directions, pirouetting into a spinning whirlwind slash when Harkon transformed himself and rematerialized on his opposite side. The Dragonborn's twirling strike forced the vampire lord to split himself apart again and resume his former position—which was just within range of Serana. She pounced from the balcony, sword in hand and slashing downward toward the base of one of his wings. Harkon heard her coming and reoriented that wing so that her strike deflected off its armor, then slammed her in the chest with its blunt side. It only forced her to slide back a step or two before she lunged back into action, thrusting her sword with several rapid stabs at various critical locations.

Harkon backpedaled and used his claws to swipe her strikes aside one after the other, ebony meeting otherworldly chitin with defined _pings_ as they moved almost faster than the naked eye could track. When Serana pulled her dagger and feinted low, she couched her sword against her chest, then went for a long thrust toward his heart, never seeing the left hand he stretched out to the side or the dark red aura that encased his body. So, when Harkon reappeared a full foot shorter than he'd been a second ago, her strike missed high, and she suddenly found herself on the defensive when he brought his retrieved sword to bear with several rapid diagonal strikes.

Serana's two blades, short and long, twirled and spun with his in a deadly dance of metal as they dueled across the cathedral. She caught his blade on her dagger when he came in with an overhead strike and slashed her sword at his legs, finding only empty air when he backflipped twenty feet into the air, the partial levitation enchantment of his cloak no doubt giving him an edge when he landed weightlessly on a balcony above. Harkon grinned down at them as he spun his sword in lazy figure-eights, beckoning them forward with his other hand.

Ketar approached her side and lowered his voice to a whisper, drawing his Nightingale Blade in his left hand while the Fury remained in his right. "He's fast, and strong, stronger than he _should_ be."

Serana snarled up at her father. "That's what happens when you have an extra millennium to practice. This is going to be one hell of a fight without Auriel's Bow."

His lips pursed as he eyed the balcony's approach. "Can't risk it. Not yet."

She cast Ketar a glance. "I'm trusting you here."

"I know." He pointed his sword at Harkon. "Hit him from the stairs."

"But that's—"

"Low ground, I know. I have a plan."

Serana frowned, but nodded and sprinted toward the steps as Ketar vanished from sight in a shimmer of darkness.

…

Ketar heard Harkon's deep voice boom and echo throughout the large open chamber tauntingly.

"You think darkness will hide you, mortal? You merely _adopted_ the dark."

"So did you," Ketar called back from the shadows as Serana approached Harkon from below.

Harkon grinned madly. "I've had more practice."

He crossed blades with Serana once more, his daughter using her sword-dagger combination to far better effect than Ketar ever had. With an impressed glance, Ketar decided that re-forging that sword was the best idea he'd had in recent memory. In retrospect, leaving her back at the gate was probably the worst. He knew deep down that she wouldn't kill him as she'd threatened, but now that he had just a moment to breathe and think, he was _not_ looking forward to the inevitable conversation they'd have once Harkon was defeated. He'd even _told_ himself never to piss Serana off… _twice_.

He smirked. _Guess it just didn't take…or I'm an idiot._ He frowned behind his Shadowcloak. _I really hope it's just the former, because if it's the latter, I'm probably about to die horribly._

With a flick of his left hand, the gauntlet of Ketar's Nightingale armor sprouted a magical cable that anchored to the ceiling halfway between the two balconies. He leapt off the one opposite Serana and Harkon's duel, swinging to the other side and releasing the cable to transition into a flying kick that landed directly between Harkon's shoulder-blades and knocked him off-balance just long enough for Serana to spit him on her sword. Unfortunately, that seemed to do little more than piss him off, since the ebony blade was still a little off from his heart. They could thank Harkon's rapid and untimely transformation for that.

He transformed into another swarm of bats, immediately facing the other direction and swiping across both of Ketar's swords with a powerful horizontal strike that screwed up his balance. Harkon lashed out with his left leg, talons scarring the Nightingale armor's chestpiece and knocking him clear off the balcony. Dropping his Nightingale Blade, Ketar threw out another magical tether that anchored to the bottom of the balcony and broke his fall. He swung toward the stairs Serana had just climbed, snapping his empty hand out again once his feet planted on the steps to whip his fallen sword back into his grasp. The collapsed weapon's blade reemerged as he ran to back up Serana, who'd gone full barbarian and shoulder-tackled Harkon off the edge.

The vampire lord's wings spread wide, catching his fall as his empty hand grabbed Serana by the collar and hurled her off. A black aura encased her body mid-fall, and her position steadied as wings of her own carried her on air currents, her transformed body lunging back toward Harkon with her sword in hand. For a moment, Ketar could only watch in blank wonder as his lover grappled and dueled with her father midair, their movements a blinding flurry of black and gray. Serana deflected Harkon's blade to the side, then slashed him across the shoulder with her opposing hand's claws, finding herself catapulted back into a stone wall by Harkon's telekinetic drain, but immediately springing back off into flight.

Ketar's head cocked as his grapple trick gave him an idea. He collapsed the Nightingale Blade once more and sheathed the Fury as he leapt from the balcony and fired a tether around Harkon's neck. Ketar's full body weight snapped the magical cable taut as Harkon made to cast another spell at Serana, knocking his flight pattern off and allowing Sera to pierce one of his wings through at the base. Harkon shrieked in pain and backhanded her away, the sword leaving his body but leaving a gaping hole in one of his most important appendages. The disruption to his flight power allowed Ketar to use his dragon strength to its full advantage, and the moment his feet were planted on the ground, he heaved with everything he had, both arms snapping downward in a diagonal arc and hurling Harkon against the ground so hard, his impact actually left a crater.

Groaning in pain and exertion, Harkon slowly pushed himself upright, eyes burning with hatred as he faced Ketar full-on, Serana touching down at her lover's side, bloodied sword in hand. The Dragonborn drew his sword, twirling it from its sheath and into a two-handed grip at his side. With a mutual roar of fury, they charged each other, Serana and Ketar attacking from opposite sides. Harkon used his improved mastery of his vampire abilities to his full advantage, shifting around their attacks in his bat form and materializing just long enough to land blunt and slashing strikes on both of them.

To Ketar, it was like fighting six opponents at once, and all of them were physically stronger and faster than him. His eyes narrowed mid-strike as his mind raced to analyze Harkon's attack pattern, and then something occurred to him. While Harkon was mid-shift, Ketar took a breath and Spoke.

" _Tiid_!"

The instantaneous slow of time to a near-crawl gave Ketar just enough enhanced perception to outpace and outthink Harkon, if only for a moment, but a moment was long enough for the Dragonborn to zero in on the highest concentration of bats and coil his blade up. He thrust the sword forward as time began to resume its normal course.

The moment he felt resistance, Ketar knew he'd won.

An ear-splitting shriek split the air as Dragonborn's Fury pierced through Harkon, back to front, just below his heart. The sizzle of burning flesh reached his ears just over the vampire's scream, Harkon clutching the blade in his chest and staring up at Serana as he collapsed to his knees. Ketar's eyes went wide in alarm when he saw her approach her father with her sword held high, and he yanked his blade loose in an attempt to behead Harkon before she could.

That was a mistake.

The sudden absence of a blessed weapon in Harkon's body gave him just enough leverage to shift forms again, this time landing behind Serana and piercing her back with all ten of his claws. She shrieked in agony as he dug the curved implements into her flesh, the younger vampire dropping her sword and finding herself flung into Ketar, who barely managed to catch her without being crushed by her larger figure. Serana shifted back down to her human form, panting and moaning in pain as Ketar held her shaking body. They both looked to Harkon, who scoffed and retreated toward the Daedric shrine.

"Fight all you want," Harkon boomed. "It matters not. You are both finite, while my power comes from Molag Bal himself!"

Tendrils of dark red energy shot from the altar's contents, creating a transparent spherical barrier around Harkon as the rest of its flow began to pour into the vampire lord's body, healing his wounds and making him stronger.

"This is bad," groaned Serana as they climbed to their feet. "He's not wrong. That magic is straight from Coldharbour, and it's _healing_ him. That shield is impenetrable to any mortal weapons or magic." She turned to Ketar. "But Auriel's Bow could break through."

Ketar's eyes went wide. "Something else might too."

"What?"

His lips pursed as he recalled a recent memory. "Gelebor said that Auriel's Bow draws its power directly from the sun."

"Okay, and?"

Ketar smiled confidently. "So do I." He nodded at his back and sheathed Dragonborn's Fury. "Get behind me."

Without checking to see if she had, Ketar's hands stretched out in front of him in the familiar laced position, fingers curling and hooking around each other, then straightening as his hands pulled apart, up and down. The golden, glowing sundial of his rift emerged, but nothing came from its depths. Instead, its glow kept growing and intensifying as he kept sweeping his hands in counterclockwise circular motions.

Behind him, Serana was staring dumbstruck. "Kay…this isn't…you're not—"

"Yeah," he interrupted with a malevolent smirk and a brief tilt of his head, "Gelebor taught me how to weaponize the rift." One final cycle of his hand motions, and the pulsing glow of the rift reached a fever pitch, his arms slowing to a stop and shaking with the sheer amount of power he was containing. "You might want to close your eyes."

The moment Ketar's hands came to a stop, he thrust them forward forcefully, a roar of righteous fury leaving his lungs as the portal _exploded_ with a massive beam of pure sunlight. The impossibly bright glow absolutely _shattered_ Harkon's barrier, along with Molag Bal's altar, scattering its grisly contents across the far chamber of the cathedral and burning off most of Harkon's armor. The vampire lord himself collapsed to the ground on all fours, one hand clutching the left side of his half-sunburnt face as his unharmed eye glared murder at the pair. Ketar, for his part, had collapsed to his knees and was shaking like a leaf, hands included, as he pulled another magicka potion from his belt and downed it in one shot, grimacing in pain.

Serana's arms were immediately around his shoulders. "You depleted your reserves again, didn't you?"

"Yeah," he groaned. "And it's getting harder to recover."

She frowned, wincing at her own injuries. "There's only so much that potions can restore. You can't keep this up."

"I know," replied Ketar, breathing heavily. "There's one last trick I have left, and it _will_ bring him down for good, but I'll need time to charge it."

Her lips pursed as she cast a glance at her rapidly recovering father. "How much time?"

"Thirty seconds. A minute, tops."

She grimaced at that, but nodded firmly and reached for her dagger. "You'll have it."

"No," he said, grabbing her hand.

Serana looked at him incredulously, tone laced with alarm. "Kay, he's _already_ getting up."

"I know…but I can't have you anywhere _near_ this one." His lips pursed as he turned his gaze to Harkon, whose face was already half-healed. "Do you still have the perfect gem from the Soul Cairn?"

"What?"

"Do you still have—"

"Yes, yes, why?!"

"Because I need a barrier, solid, without a single gap, something that'll contain him in that room long enough for me to prepare the spell."

Serana's lips pursed tightly. "You know I'm not as good with those spells as you are."

Ketar smiled up at her and laced his fingers with hers. "I know, but I have faith in you."

She nodded firmly, pulling the gem focus from a pouch at her belt and readying the shield spell.

"And Sera—"

She turned to face him.

"—as soon as the barrier's up, find cover, and make it thick." His dark blue eyes narrowed as he summoned the last of his strength and rose to his full height. "It's about to get very bright in here."

Harkon finally climbed to his taloned feet, using the remains of the altar as support to pull himself upright. "You," he snarled, eyes locked onto Ketar, "you will pay for that, _worm_!"

He took a few fumbling steps toward Ketar as the Dragonborn focused his remaining magicka on a single, massive spell. Dark blue eyes flickered from the energy in his hands to a roaring Harkon as the vampire lord charged toward him on foot. A sharp, loud hiss came from the side as a large bolt of violet energy streaked across the room to strike Harkon in the chest, stopping him in his tracks, then exploding into a thin wall of pure magic that sealed the altar chamber from the rest of the cathedral. Harkon glanced around wildly, gawking at the sudden barrier.

"What trickery is this?!" he roared, slashing at the magic shield.

Ketar just focused on his spell, taking and releasing deep, slow breaths as he tried to calm his racing heart. A golden glow started between his hands as he mimicked the motions from before, though this time moving in curling, spiraling motions, as if tracing the dimensions of a sphere. The voice of Gelebor drifted through the back of his consciousness as he closed his eyes in concentration.

 _"The rift is your connection to Auriel, the one open and constant line of communication that you will always have over the rest of the world. A connection to your father that no one can ever take away from you."_

The energy in his hands coalesced into a ball of pure magic, heat and light emanating from his body.

 _"You are Akatosh's mortal representative on Nirn, called forth in times of great need to perform the impossible in service of life."_

The space between his hands widened as the ball expanded in diameter, its insides steaming and roiling with suppressed power fighting to get out every bit as much as a raging Harkon.

 _"You are the Last Dragonborn, endowed with the full power and potential of a dragon, but fated to live as a mortal; not to make you weak, but to show you the true worth of power."_

Ketar felt the dust in the air, stones knocked loose by battle, the very ground beneath him begin to shift toward him as he poured more and more of his magicka into the spell.

 _"One who is powerful from the day he is born may lose sight of its meaning, as Alduin did, but one who must struggle, who knows what it is to be helpless, over time learns the_ value _of strength…and of_ compassion _."_

The Dragonborn's teeth bared as he felt his strength leave him in waves, every erg of it poured into the manifestation building in his grasp. Harkon saw it and began slicing at the barrier harder and faster, trying to reach him before he could complete the spell.

 _"Auriel's enlightenment teaches balance in all things. Fury, tempered by compassion; confidence, but with humility; love, balanced by wisdom."_

Images flashed through Kay's mind, of Lydia, of Balgruuf. Of Niel and Katja and Brynjolf. Of Brelyna and Tolfdir and the Ragged Flagon. Of Serana. The sapphires in his ring and sword shone as brightly as the light he held in his hands, as did the holy light runes of the Fury. Even the violet gems on his Nightingale armor began to glow with an otherworldly hue. His amulet of Akatosh burned against his neck with a pleasant warmth he hadn't felt in ages, and like a lever being thrown, the change in him was sudden and immediately noticeable. The weight, the impossible strain placed on his shoulders had all but vanished, as if a thousand arms had suddenly taken it from him.

From every corner of the universe, he felt the life and support of everyone he'd ever helped, from the gilded shores of Cyrodiil to the snow-capped slopes of Skyrim. Power flowed into him from the realm of Aetherius and the planes of Oblivion. Hope, always a small thing flickering deep inside, afraid to come out, lit up like a bonfire, roaring and crackling within, fighting, _screaming_ to get out. A pronounced shattering noise came from Ketar's surroundings, prompting him to open his eyes and see Harkon, almost fully regenerated and swooping toward him through a jagged gap in Serana's rapidly fading shield.

The fire flared up. Aetherius and Oblivion whispered to him.

Serana shouted his name.

And with a final, confident twist of his hips, Ketar unleashed the full power of the rift on Harkon, striking him directly in the heart with a miniature sun, a direct link to Aetherius that encapsulated and unleashed its very essence in a relative pinprick of space. The spell's path swept Harkon through the air some fifteen feet, his thrashing, screaming body trying to claw toward Ketar and failing due to the sun's massive gravitational pull. Not even Ketar was immune at his distance, and he felt his boots skidding against the rough stones below.

Harkon roared with impotent rage, eyes blazing with demonic fire. "I am a _god,_ you pathetic worm! I cannot be slain by the likes of you, I _will not_!"

Breathing heavily, Ketar drew himself up to full height and drew in a deep breath, voice ringing out deep and clear over the roar of the sun. "Harkon—do us _all_ a favor—"

His hands linked together and opened the rift one last time, moving clockwise in tandem as two items emerged from the portal: the gilded form of Auriel's Bow—and a single Sunhallowed Arrow. In the same motion that he opened the rift, Ketar took both weapons, nocking the arrow and drawing back his father's weapon for the first time with a satisfying hiss. He snarled as he lined up his shot.

"—just shut up and burn."

 _Twang!_

A pronounced sound, like the fast rushing of a hummingbird's wings, carried over the din of Ketar's sun as his arrow flew and spiraled through the air. Already a perfect shot, the Sunhallowed Arrow was pulled home by sheer force of gravity.

And for a few short moments, the barrier between Nirn and Aetherius was shattered.

…

If the effects of Ketar's sun projection had been devastating, the effects of hitting it with a Sunhallowed Arrow—fired from Auriel's Bow—at nearly point-blank range—were downright _apocalyptic_.

The light and gravitational effects of the sun were quadrupled, causing even firmly affixed stones close to the eruption to crumble and fly into its core. As a result, most of the cathedral's structures began to collapse and merge with the sun. Including, as Ketar quickly noticed, most of Serana's cover. Though he only noticed this when her agonized screams reached him over the deafening roar that occurred when his shot struck true. Immediately, his head snapped toward the source of the voice to see Serana desperately pressing herself against rapidly decomposing stone, even the parts of her under cover starting to burn. His blue eyes went double wide.

" _Sera_!" he screamed desperately, sprinting toward her and casting aside Auriel's Bow as he slid to a stop at her side.

Immediately, on pure instinct, Ketar grabbed the edges of his Nightingale armor's cloak and threw it around her body like a canopy, his body a shield against the blinding light that harmed his beloved. Looking back toward the source of the same, Ketar watched in cold fury as the remains of the vile Lord Harkon were consumed by Akatosh's wrath, his last screams drowned out by the death throes of the projection. With a final explosive whir, the miniature sun collapsed on itself and vanished from existence, leaving behind gaping holes in the cathedral's far walls and a sudden contrast of light that took Ketar's eyes a while to adjust to.

The beginnings of late morning light were leaking through the building's new windows, casting a bright, almost cheery glow over the unholy chapel, but Ketar paid it no mind. There was only one thing occupying his thoughts: the safety and life of his beloved Serana. Cautiously, slowly, he unfolded his cloak from around her body, eyes widening at the sight of her charred armor and tunic.

His heart lurched in his chest when he saw her eyes closed and felt no breath pass her lips.

"Sera," Ketar whispered delicately, as if speaking any louder would cause her to collapse into dust. " _Sera_ ," he repeated with a little more strength, features trembling and twisting as his lungs heaved for breath and heart hammered violently.

His throat blocked when she didn't move, merely laid limp in his arms, and he held her close and rocked her gently, chin resting on her shoulder as his shoulders shook with silent sobs. It was a few moments before he felt a gentle breeze tickle the back of his neck, tracing its way up to his hair, to the back of his head.

It was another split-second before he realized the touch was too solid to be the wind.

Dark blue eyes flew open as Ketar briefly lost the ability to breathe, or think, or—

 _Dual sunsets…bright as the day we met…_

Mirth lit up those sunsets, shaking them as the brightened room was quickly filled with loud peals of raucous laughter. Laughter of relief, of pure joy, filled Serana and Ketar as they held each other close, losing all track of time and space as the world faded to just the two of them. And as they finally began to calm, they only had eyes for each other as they drew closer, as they had from the very beginning.

And when their lips touched, it was as if all of creation smiled down on them.

* * *

AN: Wow. Just…wow. I've wanted to write this chapter for…so long now. Years, actually, ever since I played through the Dawnguard storyline when the DLC first came out. So…yeah. This was…kind of a big deal for me. I really hope the big finale was everything you ever wanted.

Okay, a lot to talk about with this arc, so let's get right down to business. First off—action. I knew because this wasn't a heavy-dialogue quest that these two chapters (and I knew they would have to be two chapters at _least_ ) would be absolutely relentless action. What dialogue I did throw in, I hope made sense and kept the story moving along smoothly. As for the action itself, I really tried to pull out all the stops with this one. It's a finale; it's gotta be epic by default or I'm not doing my job right.

And speaking of epic—Harkon's fight. A lot of you guys were asking me for something different from the game, something truly befitting of an ancient lord of vampires. I really, _REALLY_ hope I delivered to your expectations. Actually, scratch that. I hope I blew them out of the friggin' water. When I started thinking about how I was going to write Harkon's fighting style, the movie _Dracula Untold_ quickly sprang to mind, especially since vampire lords can shift to bat form at will.

You'd already seen Serana do it in moderation for various reasons, and since Harkon's had a _lot_ more time and practice, I figured he'd be on a whole other level. If you guys don't know what I'm talking about, go watch that movie. Say what you will about the story or whatever, but I loved it, and the cinematography of its fight scenes is unparalleled. Especially when it comes to showcasing vampiric powers.

Next: Serana and her new fighting style. I always envisioned her as royalty, which she is, and thus would fight like royalty. So, daggers and dueling and pure finesse rather than just brute strength—at least with weapons. So, making her a narrow-bladed sword reminiscent of something you might find in the Renaissance was, I think, only fitting. I especially like the idea of her using a sword and dagger, as you saw, and relying entirely on her dueling ability unless pushed beyond those boundaries.

Finally: Ketar Niel Dov. Hehehehehehe, so a lot of you guys were asking about exactly what he and Gelebor were discussing while Sera was taking a nap. This was it. Ketar will explain more in the next chapter (which is also the epilogue), but long story short—fully tapping into the power of the rift to unleash massive sun damage on the enemy, in a number of ways.

I was always bummed that, while you can use Sunhallowed Arrows on Harkon, there's no actual sun to fire them into, since you're indoors, so the most powerful attack you have, the sunburst, is absolutely useless. Needless to say, while I was brainstorming ideas to remedy that, that line of thinking coincided with my creation of the rift, and thus—brainchild. Basically "Vampire's Bane" on dragon-juiced steroids. With the option to fire Sunhallowed Arrows into it.

Anyway, if I keep overthinking this, I'll keep ragging on about this arc and nitpicking every detail instead of giving you guys time to think, so—I'll stop now. Like I said, there's only one chapter left to this story, but so far, my muse is still going strong, so I should be starting on the first sequel very soon after. We'll see when I'm done with the epilogue.

Either way, I really hope you've enjoyed this story and its climactic battle to your little hearts' content, and are looking forward to the epilogue as much as I am. For now, peace out, and as always—

 _Oya vode._

\- CDrake

P.S.: Dragon language translations:

" _Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau_! _Naal Thu'um se Sadon'klov, zu kodaav nii ko naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth_! _Zu'u Ysmir, Dovahsebrom_! _Dahmaan daar rok_! _Zu'u Dovahkiin, faal joor haal do Akatosh_!" – "Long has the Stormcrown languished, with no worthy brow to sit upon! By the Voice of the Greybeards, I bear it in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of Old! I am Ysmir, the Dragon of the North! Hearken to it! I am Dragonborn, the mortal hand of Akatosh!" - For the most part, a first-person recital of the Greybeards' acknowledgement of Ketar as Dragonborn, with a little addition at the end per my usual flair.

P.P.S.: Musical Inspirations:

The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings - Arena of Rage: Ketar vs. Harkon/sword duel/scoring a hit  
Dracula Untold - Hand o'Bats, Pt. 1: start-1:42—Serana and Ketar speak/Harkon's first transformation, 1:42-end—fighting a vampire lord/Ketar pinned; Hand o' Bats, Pt. 2: start-0:36—Shalidor's Mirror/"who I am", 0:36-0:48— _Thu'um_ declaration, 0:48-0:55-"Is that all you've got?", 0:55-end—resuming the fight/Harkon transforms down  
Dragon's Dogma - Imminent Triumph: start-0:07—Harkon's ascent to balcony, 0:07-0:24—making a new plan, 0:24-2:39—staircase engagement/midair duel/down to Nirn/bat swarm fight, 2:39-2:43—" _Tiid_!"/stab to the chest, 2:43-3:04—Harkon's escape/crippling Serana/blood barrier, 3:04-3:22—last-ditch effort/preparing the rift/"close your eyes", 3:22-3:32—beam of light/shield broken, 3:32-end—helping Ketar recover  
Thor: The Dark World – As the Hammer Falls: start-0:20—Harkon's charge/barrier goes up, 0:20-0:59—charging the spell/barrier breaks/releasing the spell, 0:59-1:18—Harkon's final words/drawing Auriel's Bow, 1:18-1:28—"shut up and burn"/arrow in flight, 1:28-2:00—unleashing the power of the sun/saving Serana/Harkon's death/portal collapses, 2:00-end—dual sunsets/end of chapter


	22. Epilogue: Time

AN: **_DO NOT SKIP PAST THIS!_**

Okay, so some of you have been making comments that indicate a fear that I'm ending the tale of Serana and Ketar with this story. I AM NOT. Just decided that I don't want to write another Lord of the Rings trilogy in one story like I did with Angel. Besides, this is pretty self-contained, but with some loose ends to keep you guys coming back. So, even when this story is done, keep an eye on my author page for a new story, titled, _Children of Akatosh_. That'll be the next entry in what I'm now calling the "Dragonborn Saga." Or better yet, follow me as an author, and you'll be notified by e-mail the second I publish the new story.

And with that, let's get into the final chapter.

* * *

To say that Serana's mind was clouded over with euphoria would not have been an understatement. To say that her exhilaration was quickly and annoyingly killed by the bright sunlight blaring in through the cathedral's now-open far wall would also not have been an understatement. She winced and pulled away from Ketar's lips with a grimace, putting one hand to her head.

"Ow," she voiced.

Ketar blinked rapidly. "Sorry."

She snorted a laugh and smirked. "Not your fault." Her features sharpened. "Wait—yes it is. How the hell did you even _do_ that?"

He chuckled and helped her to her feet with one hand as he pulled Nocturnal's Embrace off his chest with the other. "Long story short: Gelebor and I had a _very_ productive discussion. I'll tell you the details later."

Her brows furrowed. "Why lat—"

The massive double-doors of the cathedral opened with a loud creak and whine, permitting Isran, Gunmar, and Agmaer into the room, flanked by several armored Dawnguard with full helmets that concealed their features. Isran's gaze flickered around the utterly destroyed room with no small amount of shock. Eventually, all eyes went to the couple currently holding each other, roving over the scores and char-marks on Serana's armor, and the many visible injuries on Ketar's leather-clad form.

Agmaer slowly lowered his crossbow. "We missed something, didn't we?"

Serana arched an eyebrow and waved her hand in the direction of the missing wall. "You _think_?"

Isran's gaze flickered to a small pile of glowing red ash on the far side of the room, near the stone stub that had once been Molag Bal's altar. "Is…is that—"

"Yeah," Ketar interrupted. "He's gone. For good."

The Redguard's lips pursed and he nodded tightly. "Then it's finished. Even if any of his vampires escaped the purge, without his leadership, they'll be scattered and disorganized, and therefore a significantly lesser threat. Easy enough for the Dawnguard to mop up." He looked to the ash pile. "Harkon is dead, and the prophecy dies with him." Isran turned to Serana, stowing his warhammer and approaching her with measured steps. "I...I suppose this is difficult for you."

Ketar was about to scold Isran for his drastic understatement, but stopped when he saw Serana stare at Harkon's ashes impassively.

"I think my father really died a long time ago," she said. "This was just...the end of something else." She turned back to Isran. "I did what needed to be done. Nothing more."

Isran frowned and glanced at Harkon's remains. "I think perhaps..." he closed his eyes briefly with a sigh, "I think you did more than that." Isran held out his hand to her. "I owe you thanks…and an apology."

Serana stared at his hand for a moment before returning her gaze to his eyes and shaking it. "No thanks needed." She looked back at Ketar with a smile in her eyes. "I didn't do it for you."

Isran frowned and nodded. "I know, but all the same…thank you…Serana."

She smiled briefly. "You're welcome."

Isran's attention turned to Ketar, who was rising from where he'd recovered the discarded Bow of Auriel. "So, the beast is destroyed. Not only that, but Auriel's Bow is in safe hands. The Dawnguard will now be dedicated to safeguarding it, making sure that prophecy will never come to pass. You've served Skyrim well." He held out his hand to receive the weapon, jaw tightening when Ketar didn't so much as twitch. "Dov?"

He wasn't paying the hunter any attention. At least, not for a while. Instead, all his focus was on the bow, gaze intense as it flickered from the weapon to the shattered wall.

Ketar's mouth twitched and trembled. "Serana and I are the only ones who have seen this weapon used firsthand, and now that I have…" He frowned deeply. "I don't think…" he faced Isran and the Dawnguard, "I don't think the power of Auriel's Bow is something that should remain in _anyone's_ hands."

Isran's features hardened. "And does that blanket statement include _yourself_?" he asked sharply, hand drifting dangerously close to his weapon.

Ketar's gaze shifted to Auriel's Bow, then to Serana, who'd nearly been killed by its power just minutes earlier. His blood ran cold at what might've been for just a moment before he returned his focus to Isran. "Yeah…I think it does." He opened the rift and began to store the weapon. "I'll return it to its resting place. There's a man there, a paladin of Auri-El, who's been keeping watch over the bow for centuries. It'll be safe with him." His gaze turned to Isran. "Is that agreeable to the Dawnguard?" The fire in the depths of his cerulean eyes dared the Redguard to disagree.

To his surprise, he didn't. "If he's kept Auriel's Bow out of the wrong hands for this long, I don't see why not. Just make sure it gets there."

Ketar bowed his head slightly. "You have my word."

Isran snorted. "I suppose that'll be enough. After all…" he smirked and turned for the exit, "I know you're good for it."

One by one, the Dawnguard silently followed their leader from the cathedral, all except one, who stowed his crossbow and approached the pair with hesitant steps.

Serana smiled at his approach. "Glad to see you made it, Agmaer."

He chuckled. "Almost didn't." His eyes turned to Ketar. "But that housecarl of yours is a real handful. Saved my life more than once."

Ketar frowned. "Where _is_ Lydia?"

Agmaer shrugged. "Oh, I'm sure she's around."

Serana's head cocked in confusion. "How did she even get _in_?"

"You know, I asked the same question, and apparently she got in the same way you and I did."

"The cistern?" she asked incredulously.

He nodded slowly, wide-eyed. "Sprinted the whole way across the island, in full armor, and still had enough strength to wrestle a vampire off me barehanded."

Serana's eyebrows hiked upward, but Ketar just grinned and shook his head.

"That's Lydia," he chuckled. "Always going above and beyond."

"I swore to protect her, didn't I?"

The three turned toward a new voice from the open doors, spotting a bloodied and bruised, but intact Lydia. Her plate armor, on the other hand, was not so lucky. Ketar actually winced at the money he'd have to drop to have it repaired (he enchanted the living hell out of it after the fight with Alduin went sideways). The woman herself grinned like the cat who ate the canary and held Chillrend high like a banner.

"Here I am, master!"

Ketar groaned and rolled his eyes, facepalming audibly. "Too little too late, Lydia." He smiled. "Though I appreciate the effort."

Lydia snorted and sheathed her sword, then crossed her arms defensively. " _You_ try keeping up with a woman who can melt around iron bars."

He arched an eyebrow at her.

Lydia blinked and giggled. "Oh. Right."

They all had a small chuckle over that before the room fell silent and Agmaer sighed.

"Well," he said, "I should probably get going with the others." He held out his hand to Ketar, who took it without hesitation. "I'll miss working with you."

Kay smirked. "Don't count me out just yet. There are still some very dangerous fiends left out there. Harkon vanishing overnight won't just pass without consequences."

"He's right," said Serana with a frown. "With my father gone, there's going to be a considerable power vacuum among Skyrim's vampires." Her eyes turned to Ketar. "And I'll give you three guesses as to who's going to try and fill it."

He snarled. "Vingalmo."

She nodded slowly. "We'll have to be extra careful now that Harkon's gone."

"Because now there's no one left to keep his ambitions in check," Ketar added.

"Exactly."

"We'll be ready," declared Lydia. "Won't we, kid?" she asked Agmaer with a grin and punch to his arm.

The young Nord blushed and laughed uncomfortably. His eyes eventually turned to Serana. "Listen…" he sighed, "Isran was right, about me."

Serana blinked.

Agmaer shrugged. "I knew from the start that…it would never work out between us." His gaze flickered over Ketar's carefully neutral expression.

"Perhaps," she conceded, "but it was never because of what you did—or didn't do."

Agmaer looked down, averting his eyes in shame.

Serana approached him and placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to meet her gaze. "And it's not because you're not enough. Sometimes…what we want just isn't right for us. It can…blind us to what's best for us in the long run…" she turned her head to fix Ketar with an adoring look, "to what we really _need_."

Kay smiled slightly.

She turned back to Agmaer. "So, trust me, there's a girl for you, waiting out there somewhere, who you are going to make _very_ happy someday." She smiled. "Just make sure, every day, that you work to be the kind of man who can do that for her."

Agmaer smiled back. "Always, Lady Serana."

He held out his hand, but found it ignored when he was pulled into a tight hug by the woman in front of him. He barely had time to reciprocate when she pulled apart and laid a light kiss on his left cheek. Agmaer's face burned bright red, eyes wide as Serana laughed and stepped away from him. He cleared his throat with some effort and forced himself not to look at the _highly_ amused vampire. Instead, he turned his attention to Ketar.

"With that said, if you ever need help in the future, either of you—" his lips pursed, "—I hope you'll think of me."

Ketar smiled and nodded firmly. "Rookie or no, far as I'm concerned, _you_ are the best the Dawnguard has to offer."

Agmaer smiled. "I can't say I agree with you there." He bowed in deference to them. "But I look forward to the day when I can. Blessed journeys, you three."

"And to you," replied Lydia.

The boy gave them all one last nod before leaving the cathedral and the three companions in silence.

Serana's eyes lit up a moment later. "Kay—" her head snapped to the glowing red ashes briefly, "—if Harkon is—that means—"

He smiled. "Yeah. We can bring Valerica home."

"Your mom?" Lydia asked Sera. "Where is she?"

"Somewhere you can't follow, I'm afraid," Serana replied.

"With that said," Ketar added, "I think you should head back to Whiterun."

Lydia crossed her arms and gave them a deadpan look. "If you two just want an excuse to be alone so you can hook up—"

"Nope," he interrupted flippantly, "the Soul Cairn just sucks. A lot. And by suck, I mean your soul."

Her eyes widened, one brow arched in horror. "O…kay. Well, in that case—"

"In that case, you should go check on Brynjolf. Make sure the jarl hasn't arrested him yet. And if he has, help him out."

Lydia groaned and rolled her eyes. "Yes, Lord Dov," she drawled unconvincingly.

Ketar chuckled. "I love you too."

A pronounced silence followed that particular declaration for a good long while before Lydia turned to him with a smile and nod. She left through the cathedral doors a moment later.

Serana sighed hard once she was out of earshot. "Well…guess we better start climbing then." She waved out the open wall. "It's a long way up."

Ketar smirked and headed for the gap. "I've got a better idea. _Dur-Neh-Viir_!"

An eruption of violet energy split the air just outside the castle walls, the rotting form of their dragon ally appearing moments later and spreading his wings long enough to dig talons into the stones. Firmly anchored, his head poked through the ruptured wall and gazed around inquisitively. His serpentine gaze eventually landed on Ketar, one scaly brow arched in question.

"Well…you've been busy."

Ketar chuckled. "Yeah, you could say that."

Durnehviir smiled. "Is there something I can do for you, _Qahnaarin_?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Would you be willing to let Sera and I ride you to the balcony of Volkihar Tower?"

His head bowed. "It would be my utmost pleasure." He laid his head down on the stones. "Climb onto my neck, and hold on tight."

They did so, Ketar going first and helping Serana aboard the wyrm's scaly neck. She held onto him tightly as Ketar gripped Durnehviir's horns, the drake gently backing up out of the hold and flapping his wings to gain some distance between him and the castle wall. Ketar's stomach did a sharp flip at the sight of how far up he was before stabilizing and quickly turning to euphoria as Durnehviir propelled himself through the air with smooth, powerful movements. Kay cheered and whooped as he and Serana rode Durnehviir in a wide curve around Volkihar Island, the small balcony of the tower quickly coming into sight as the dragon slowed his approach. Gently, Durnehviir gripped the tower's parapets on either side of the balcony, lowering his head and allowing the pair to climb off his back.

"That," Ketar gasped, "was _awesome_." He turned to Serana, who was wide-eyed and looking a bit paler than usual. "Sera?"

She held up a hand. "Just…give me a minute."

He frowned and furrowed his brows. "Are you… _motion sick_?"

Serana shot him a look as she held onto a nearby rail for support.

"But you fly all the time!"

"Yeah, on my _own_ power. Little different when I'm not the one in control."

He huffed. "Apparently."

Durnehviir, on the other hand, was chuckling lightly, which snapped Ketar back to reality.

"Durnehviir, there's something I need you to do." He frowned. "Sera and I are returning to the Soul Cairn. We need you to stay here."

Serana blinked. "What? Why?"

"Because once we go through, the Ideal Masters will no doubt try to mobilize their forces against us if we're found. And if they do, they will _undoubtedly_ try to force Durnehviir to attack us." Ketar frowned up at the dragon. "Immortal or not, I don't relish the thought of having to put you down again."

Durnehviir winced. "A sentiment I share. Very well. I will remain here as long as I can, though without your presence, I'm unsure how long I'll be able to maintain my presence in Tamriel."

Ketar's head shook. "Any time at all would be great, but don't strain yourself."

The dragon's head bowed. "In the meantime, I will roam the skies of Nirn, as I once did. It will be…sweet to be able to do so without the constraints of battle." He jolted. "Speaking of which, I neglected to teach you the next word of Soul Tear when last we met."

He chuckled. "We were in the middle of a fight, so I think I can excuse that one."

"Nevertheless, you have kept your side of the bargain, now let me fulfill mine, and teach you the last word as well." Durnehviir drew himself up and took a deep breath. " _Vaaz_." His Voice etched the word of power into the stones of the balcony, and he waited for a moment as Ketar's mind absorbed the meaning of the word. "To tear your enemy's soul from its living vessel." He waited for a few more seconds before Speaking again. " _Zol_." Another glyph appeared next to the first. "The unlife that results when a soul is imprisoned in dead flesh."

Ketar stared into the glowing runes as his vision faded for a moment before sharpening and returning to normal, the chanting of the Thu'um pervading his mind and slowly calming until it faded into the back of his consciousness. "So…basically…Soul Tear is a much more effective, more forceful soul trap spell."

"That, if lethal, will resurrect the victim's body to fight for you," Durnehviir added.

Ketar grimaced. "I appreciate the knowledge, but this…isn't the kind of power I'd ever want to use."

"You may yet be surprised," said the dragon in a strange, pensive tone.

His eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Durnehviir smiled. "It means that my years of life and unlife have taught me that coincidence is a myth. You were sent to the Soul Cairn for a reason, you found and defeated me for a reason." He drew himself up on his hind talons, which were anchored to the bottom of the balcony's supports. "Whatever you do or learn has a purpose, _Dovahkiin_. And only time can tell what that purpose may be." He bowed his head slightly. "I wish you good luck in the Soul Cairn, _Qahnaarin_."

And with that, Durnehviir took to the skies and roared his goodbye.

"Well, that was…weird," said Serana.

"Yeah." Ketar's lips pursed. "Anyway, we should go. No telling how long Durnehviir will be able to maintain his form here."

"Agreed," she replied, pushing open the door to her mother's lab. "Shall we?"

He caught her arm and drew up short. "Ehh…is this going to work? I mean, I have my soul back, after all, so…will I have to split it again just to go back in?"

Serana frowned and shook her head. "I don't think so. After you retrieved your soul, I sensed something different about you, a small gap that was there before, after I soul trapped you. But, it was filled with something unusual. I think a small part of the Soul Cairn itself imprinted itself on you when you bested their Keepers. So, you should be fine."

"…should."

She grinned and grabbed his hand, then pulled him toward the portal. They passed through without incident, though Ketar felt the same vertigo as last time and landed on his knees once again.

"Ugh," he groaned, "never get used to that."

Serana arched an eyebrow as she helped him up. "Well, hopefully we'll never have to come back here after today."

Ketar nodded his enthusiastic agreement, thanking Akatosh that he no longer felt the same crushing weakness as last time, then took off down the stairs and slid to a stop at the bottom. He looked back up to see Serana descending with a wary eye on their surroundings, waving her forward and falling into a cautious march down the road to Valerica's castle. It was a few minutes before he realized how tense Serana was and turned to see her frowning at the road. Ordinarily, he'd have chalked it up to how dangerous this place was, but even their first time through, when their uncertainty was doubled, she'd been a great deal more chatty than now.

"Something wrong?" Ketar asked.

Serana blinked and glanced over at him. "Yeah. I'm just…" she frowned deeper, "thinking about Valerica…" her jaw tightened, "it reminds me of—"

"What I did at the gate."

A silent nod.

Ketar just sighed and kept walking.

"…Kay, we need to talk abou—"

"I know," he interrupted firmly. "I owe you that—but not here." His eyes drifted across the dead landscape. "Too many eyes, too many ears." He glanced at her. "Too many things that want to kill us."

Her lips pursed tightly as she shrugged. "Fair enough. On the road to the Vale then."

Ketar nodded, and they fell into silence after that.

…

A distant, familiar voice snapped Valerica's focus from a delicate titration she was working on, a sharp curse muttered under her breath when a highly corrosive liquid dripped onto her workstation and burnt partway through the stone. Still, if her ears were correct—

"Mother!"

She grinned. _Totally worth it._

Valerica dropped what she was doing and took off toward the castle's entrance at a run, coming to a stop at the top of the same set of stairs where she and Serana had first reconnected. Where she had first met _him_. Speaking of whom—

"Valerica," he called out. "A pleasure to see you again."

The elder vampire's lips pursed tightly. "Dov." Her eyes softened when they alit on her daughter. "Serana." She glanced between them. "I sense you aren't here for a social visit."

Ketar stepped forward. "Harkon is dead."

Valerica's eyes widened as her mouth ran dry and hung open in disbelief. " _What_? A-Are you certain?"

He shrugged. "Well, I hit him with a portal to Aetherius—which is to say a miniature sun—and fired Sunhallowed Arrows into it from Auriel's Bow, which effectively shattered the magical barrier between their world and ours and basically disintegrated him with Auriel's wrath."

Valerica stared at him for a few moments, willing her brain to catch up with him. "So…yes."

He nodded slowly.

A profound sigh of relief left her throat as she closed her eyes and smiled. When they opened again, her gaze shifted from Ketar to Serana and back. "Then I see nothing preventing my return to Tamriel. Allow me to gather some of my things and I'll head back to Castle Volkihar. And from the bottom of my heart, I thank you."

Ketar bowed his head.

Serana stepped forward when her mother headed back toward her alchemical setup. "Is there anything you need help carrying?"

"A few things, yes," she replied, noting that Ketar still dutifully followed her daughter around and smirking at that.

He came to a stop halfway to her dwelling, pointing at something near the pavilion. "What…is _that_?"

Valerica blinked and smiled. "That is Arvak, my horse."

"…you have a horse?"

"Yes."

"Since when do you have a—never mind." He frowned. "Wait a minute, if you have a horse, why are you asking _us_ to carry your things?"

She whirled on him and glared protectively. "Arvak is my loyal steed, not some mule you can load up at a whim. He is for passengers, _not_ cargo. And he _will_ be returning with me to Tamriel."

Ketar's eyes went wide as he held his hands up in surrender. "Okay. My mistake."

Valerica caught Serana restraining laughter from the side and had to chide herself for the outburst. Such sentiment, and for a non-sentient creature that was already dead. Gods, she _was_ going senile, wasn't she?

…

"What will you do now?"

Valerica turned toward Serana, who was helping her unpack a large trunk of clothes and alchemical materials. "Well, I think it's time I got back to my work as an alchemist." She waved at the open portal in the center of her lab. "The Soul Cairn will offer a unique opportunity to continue my studies, and I intend to complete my research." Her gaze turned to Ketar, who was pulling the last of her possessions out of the rift. "In the meantime, if there are any potions you might need, feel free to help yourself."

"Much appreciated," he replied. "Burned through most of my reserves during the battle."

Valerica snorted derisively. "Must not be very talented at not getting hit then."

Ketar shot her a look. "First off, did _you_ ever go full-on toe-to-toe with Harkon? And second, I meant my magicka potions."

She arched an inquisitive eyebrow at him until Serana spoke up.

"He found a way to lift his natural limits and burn through all his magicka," she explained.

Valerica's eyes widened as she stared at Ketar. "That's incredibly dangerous."

"I know."

"He knows."

Serana shot Ketar a peeved look, which he returned for a while before rolling his eyes and making for the door to Volkihar Balcony. They'd managed to leave the Soul Cairn without incident, thank the gods, and Arvak was _loving_ his new quarters, though the vampire matron was quickly realizing that the horse would need slightly larger chambers if he was going to avoid boredom. Valerica watched him follow Ketar out the door, then slowly turned her gaze to Serana, who was frowning and busying herself putting the alchemy equipment in order.

"Serana."

The girl stopped and looked up at her mother.

Valerica's lips pursed as she backed up and sat herself on a stone table. She patted the space next to her. "Come."

Sighing, Serana strode over and pulled herself up to sit next to her mother, chin resting on her palms as she slouched over. Valerica took a deep breath and hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder, taking advantage of Serana's distraction to look her daughter over. Time had been kind to the girl, far kinder than it had been to anyone else in their family. Granted, as vampires, they never aged, but still. There was something about her eyes that spoke of a youthful vigor and hope that Valerica had long lost.

"Serana…I know I haven't been the best mother. Point of fact, my parenting has been rather appalling for most of your life."

The girl sighed and glanced up at her. "Yeah, but…you were there, at least."

Valerica's head shook. "That's no excuse for the way I've treated you, or the callous, cold attitude I adopted all those years ago. Family was… _is_ the most important thing in my life. I just couldn't see it until I spent a millennium apart from mine." She gripped her shoulder tighter. "I know how much my detachment hurt you, Serana, how our feud tore you apart, made you grow cold and cynical on the inside. Though you hated me for it for a time, in a way, I'm glad you weren't awake for the last thousand years. I shudder to think that were it not for that slumber, I might've met a copy of _myself_ a few weeks ago."

Serana chuckled ruefully. "Funny. Ketar said just about the same thing before we came to find you."

Valerica smiled. "Then he is far wiser than his years."

She snorted. "Maybe. Still pretty stupid at times, though."

Her mother laughed. "Yes, well, part of that just comes from being a man." Her gaze intensified. "A man who _loves_ you."

Serana's eyes widened as she turned to face Valerica. "Y-You know? How? Did he tell you?"

Valerica tilted her head and gave her daughter a look that said "really?" "As if he'd _have_ to." She smiled wistfully. "You forget, I was in love once, with a man just as powerful and passionate. The difference is, yours does not see power as something to be grasped and coveted." Her voice quieted and head shook slowly. "No, he values _you_ far above all that. And that gives me hope."

Serana gulped. "Hope for what?"

Valerica smiled and gently laid a hand on her daughter's cheek. "That my only child will have a life far better than mine."

Serana's jaw and throat worked as her eyes flickered with emotion. Silent tears slid down her face as she embraced her mother, face pressed into her shoulder and arms tight around her back.

"I love you," whispered the girl.

Valerica smiled and held her tighter, vainly fighting back tears of her own. "I love you too, Serana."

…

Ketar stared out at the bay surrounding Volkihar Island with a brooding look on his face for some time before he realized something. Namely, that the afternoon sun was shining down on the castle, free and clear of any and all cloud cover, for the very first time. It brought a smile to his face. The door creaking open to his side snapped his attention away from the sky's reflection on the water and back to the mother and daughter about to join him on the balcony. Ketar jerked a thumb at the undead horse currently rolling on his back.

"I think he's got an itch," he declared.

Serana arched a brow. "Oh? What tipped you off?"

He smirked. "Maybe the fact that he's been doing that non-stop for the last five minutes."

The pair exchanged a small laugh and watched in muted awe as Valerica crouched down and lavished _much_ more affection on the creature than was characteristic for her. It was almost frightening, to be honest. The matron rose and turned to fix Ketar with an intense stare.

"You."

He sighed. "Me."

Valerica's severe features softened. "Treat her well, Dov. My daughter is the most precious thing I have left in this world," she grinned and showed her fangs, "and now that there's no more Harkon—"

Ketar's eyes widened in mild horror. "Nothing to keep you from coming after me." He smiled uneasily. "Got it."

Valerica kept grinning. "Just making sure." Her smile thinned out to a small curve as she turned to Serana. "Stay safe, both of you. I may not be traveling with you, but if you ever need my help, you'll know where to find me."

Serana smiled and took her hands. "We'll keep in touch, Mother. Don't worry."

"I hope to see that garden of yours back at full strength when we return," Ketar added with a smile.

Valerica's eyes widened. "Shor's breath…I forgot all about the garden."

Serana chuckled. "Yeah. Going to be kind of hard to resume your experiments without materials."

A glint of excitement entered the matron's eyes. "Well then I'll have to remedy that." She glanced between them. "Goodbye, you two."

"Goodbye, Mother."

"Goodbye, Valerica."

A mischievous flash entered Ketar's features as he grinned from ear to ear, then grabbed Serana, pulled her to his chest, and Shouted, " _Feim-Zii-Gron_!" just before leaping off the balcony with her.

Valerica's shouts of indignation and threat followed them all the way down, drowned out by the volume of Ketar's laughter.

…

A minute after they reached the mainland, Ketar was about to call for Stormbreaker when Serana grabbed his arm with a frown.

"I thought maybe we could walk this time," she said.

Ketar frowned and nodded in understanding. He didn't have to do anything more after that. His horse knew to go to the closest safe settlement if he wasn't seen for more than a day. Thus, they leisurely started off toward Darkfall Cave, not walking hand-in-hand for the first time in weeks. It was almost five minutes before someone finally spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Serana turned her eyes to Ketar.

He frowned deeply. "You were right. I _was_ a hypocrite back at the castle. It was stupid and reckless."

She smiled a little. "Glad you're man enough to admit it."

Ketar's lips quirked upward. "Me too." His frown returned. "But I'd do it again."

Serana stared at him in silence for a few seconds before exploding. " _What_?! Have you learned _nothing_?!" She grabbed his arm almost painfully, bringing them to a stop. "Fighting alone is too much of a risk to take, _especially_ against someone like Harkon."

"There," he replied, pointing at her. "You did it again."

Her orange eyes narrowed. "Did _what_?"

"You called him Harkon."

She stared. "That was his name."

"Yes. But there was a time where you called him father."

"He lost the right to be my father _ages_ ago, Kay. You know that."

"I know that, and you know that, but your heart—that's another story."

She huffed. "The hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Ketar sighed and rubbed his temples, pacing.

Serana shook her head slowly, a sardonic smile slowly growing on her features. "I get it now. I'm the damsel in distress."

His head snapped up. " _What_?"

She waved her arms around dramatically, her tone mocking. "You _rescued_ the beauty from an unending sleep and brought her back to her castle, only to find out that a monster had taken her home. So you set out on an epic quest to save her from men and monsters and getting—"

"Serana, stop it! You know it's not like that!"

She held her arms up. "Then what is it? Huh? You trusted me to help you in the Soul Cairn, when you were so weak you could barely even _stand_ , and insisted you come with me to help fight in that condition. Then, when I'm at _full strength_ , at the doorstep of our greatest enemy," she pointed an accusing finger at him, "you leave me behind." Another shrug. "So what the hell am I _supposed_ to think?"

Ketar's jaw tightened. "I was _trying_ to protect you—"

"From my father, I _know_."

"No, that's not what I—"

"You tried to take on all the weight." Serana started spinning in a circle, motioning wildly, her eyes ablaze with anger and frustration. "Like you're Ysgramor or Talos or some other gods-forsaken hero from legend. Like you're a god whose job is to hold up the world, and I'm just some pretty thing you need to lock in a box and keep safe from the world."

Ketar's gaze hardened. "That is _not_ what this is."

"Then explain it to me!" she shouted, gesticulating even harder. "Explain to me how you're not making the _exact_ same mistake my mother did. _She_ wanted to protect me from Harkon too, and I forgave her for that, but here you are, willing to _repeat_ that mistake."

"It's not about _Harkon_."

"I know," cried Serana, "and that's the worst part!" Her eyes turned desperate. "You did all that for me, put your life on the line, risked _certain_ death, all to protect _me_ from a mad _dog_ who should've been put down _centuries_ ago."

Ketar finally lost it. "I wasn't protecting you from Harkon!" he roared, jabbing a finger into her chest. "I was protecting you from _yourself_!"

Serana was stunned into silence for a while, her reply coming out weakly. "What?"

He sighed hard and scrubbed a hand over his face, pacing again. "Okay…okay." He took and released a few deep, heavy breaths, hands on his hips, before he slowly turned to face Serana. "You were right, when you said that Niel was family. He and Katja were probably the closest thing I'll ever have to a father and mother. And I lost _both_ of them. My actual parents _abandoned_ me. Lost them too." He smiled sardonically. "So, I'm an orphan. First time, I didn't have a choice. I was a baby. Couldn't have held onto them if I wanted to.

"The second time, the Thalmor came to Cloud Ruler Temple and forced us to flee in different directions. I haven't seen Katja since. And when Niel and I were cornered, he knocked me out and threw me on Stormbreaker's back while he stayed behind and got butchered by the Thalmor to protect me. No choice." His features shifted with an echo of grief. "That didn't make me feel any less guilty when I found his file." He placed his hands on her shoulders. "How much more would _you_ feel, if you were the one to slay Harkon?"

Serana blinked up at him, ice in her eyes. "He wasn't my father anymore."

Ketar arched an eyebrow. "No? Then why, in the Soul Cairn, did you tell Valerica he was?"

Her jaw dropped open.

He sighed hard, jaw working. "I've seen you in pain before, Serana. I've seen you suffer. Often because of the actions of others, but also because of your own. Because given the choice between allowing someone to face pain and taking that agony yourself, you choose the latter. I know because I've seen you do it…and because I'm the _exact_ same way." His voice became brittle and delicate. "And when you hurt—" his face twitched with pain, "—when I see you suffer…" his eyes stung and filled, clouding his vision, "it hurts me. It hurts me in ways that…I don't know how to explain." His head shook slowly, eyes spilling over. "Ways that…I don't think I fully understand."

Serana gulped as she averted her eyes from his intense gaze.

He placed a hand on her chin, tipping her head back up to meet his softened eyes. "Sera…I didn't drop that gate because I didn't think you could handle yourself against your father, or that you couldn't take the burden of ending his life." He placed his palm against her cheek. "I dropped the gate because I didn't think you should _have_ to."

Her lower lip trembled.

Ketar's throat closed briefly before he swallowed his way past the lump to finish. "I did it because I love you… _so_ much more than my own life."

They stared at each other for a long time, Ketar's expression nothing less than pleading, while Serana seemed like she was teetering on the edge between wanting to scream and wanting to cry. In the end, she let out a small burst of both. A quiet, desperate sound that was half-sob, half-frustration came from her throat as she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Gods," she cried, "what a mess we are."

Ketar let out a watery laugh and held her close, gently stroking her hair and accidentally pulling her braid loose. Her long black locks fell loosely around her neck, down to the red cloak around her shoulders. After seeing the condition her armor was in, Serana had switched back to her usual attire, repaired with the breastplate and tunic of the male royal armor Ketar kept in his rift. So there was no hard metal to keep him from holding her tightly and squeezing her shoulders. She gently pushed away from him a few moments later, sniffling and coughing a bit.

"We should…we should go," she stuttered, wiping a hand over her features.

He nodded slightly, frowning a bit when she turned back to the road and started walking. Ketar came up alongside her and slipped his hand into hers, smiling in relief when she held it back tightly and interlaced her fingers with his.

…

The Forgotten Vale was just as they'd left it: eerily quiet and like a slice of another world. Upon further thought, Ketar realized that due to its far-removed western location, the Vale wasn't actually in Skyrim, but in High Rock. Was it coincidence that he learned some of the most powerful magic he'd ever cast while in the home of the Bretons? Perhaps, but if recent events had taught him anything, it was that coincidence was rarely just that. He was snapped from his musings when they stepped into the Wayshrine where they'd first met Gelebor and teleported all the way to Auriel's Chapel, or what was left of it.

The Elf himself was carving something on what looked like a large slab of slate and glancing out at the mountains in the backdrop every couple of seconds. Upon a closer look, Ketar realized he was making a slate etching of the Jerall Mountains around the Vale, and a rather accurate one too.

"Pretty impressive work," Ketar admitted.

Gelebor blinked and cast them a brief glance, lips quirking upward. "Thank you. Spending centuries in solitude tends to inspire the development of some eccentric hobbies, and since canvas isn't exactly common around here—"

"You thought you'd go with slate." Kay nodded slowly. " _I'd_ pay for it."

The paladin laughed and laid down his carving implement, a repurposed iron chisel, dusting his hands off and turning toward the couple. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?"

Ketar frowned and summoned Auriel's Bow from the rift, taking it in both hands and extending it to Gelebor. "It's too much power to remain in the hands of mortals."

The Elf's lips pursed as he stared down at the weapon, eyes flickering to Serana for a brief moment before focusing on Ketar. "I cannot take it."

Ketar frowned. "What?"

"You may be right about the bow having too much power. Auriel knows that enough people have fought over it to make one wonder whether or not it should even _be_ here, but that isn't our decision to make." He reached out and pressed the bow back toward Ketar. "Auriel chose _you_ to be his champion. He is the only one who can relieve you of that burden."

The Dragonborn blinked. "Then…you mean…the wayshrine?"

Gelebor nodded. "It is the only way to return it to his care. Unless you use the rift, of course, but that would still put the bow within your reach."

Ketar nodded slowly, turning toward the wayshrine and pursing his lips. He glanced at Serana, who gave him a reassuring smile, then headed toward the shrine and the altar within. Slowly, he held out Auriel's Bow in his extended hand, the light glinting off its golden surface intensifying the closer he got to its original resting place. Suddenly, the same blinding flash of light that had engulfed his vision when he'd retrieved it returned—amplified by a thousand.

And this time it lasted.

…

Ketar blinked several times, realizing after a few seconds that he wasn't being blinded, but that his environment was just that bright. His eyes widened in realization and recognition at the bright golden glow of his surroundings, gaze darting about to see that Auriel's Bow had left his hand, and he was currently standing on nothing, in the middle of an indescribable golden plane of existence.

A pronounced sigh left his lips as he closed his eyes and shook his head. "I know you're there. Might as well just show yourself."

A low, deep chuckle came from the Aether as the gold of his surroundings coalesced into a tall bearded man with pointed ears and a golden crown. His body was clad in armor plates of golden dragonbone, his eyes the same color, but shifting like the surface of the sun. And he was smiling, ever so gently.

Ketar stared at him agape. "Father."

"Son," he replied, voice booming and echoing throughout the Aether. He looked around, waving to their surroundings. "It's been a while since you've visited this place."

Kay frowned deeply. "After last time, I had hoped I'd never have to." His eyes widened in horror. "Wait—am I dead?"

The manifestation of Akatosh laughed warmly. "No, not at all. That altar is deeply connected to me, and adding my bow to the mix created a…well, a rift through which we are able to speak."

He blinked. "So…I was teleported to Aetherius?"

Akatosh smirked. "Not quite, but…for simplicity's sake, let's go with that."

Ketar let out a hard breath, pacing as his mind struggled to catch up to his circumstances.

The Aedra god gave him a few moments, hands clasped behind his back and a smile on his face. "You've had quite the ride of late, no?"

Ketar barked a laugh of agreement. "Traveling to other realms, killing ancient vampires—"

"Falling in love."

The silence that followed was…awkward, to say the least. Ketar hesitated for a while, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah…about that…"

The Aedra arched an inquisitive eyebrow.

Ketar took a deep breath and set his jaw firmly, meeting his father's eyes. "I love Serana…probably more than I've loved _anyone_. And there isn't a thing you or anyone could say or do to change my mind about it."

Akatosh blinked owlishly, staring at him blankly for a while. And then something happened that Ketar had _not_ seen coming in a million years. He started laughing. Just small, quiet chuckles at first, but soon the entire plane was booming with his cackles, which, for some reason, made _Ketar_ want to laugh. Just a little bit. Mostly though, he was just confused at why a statement of what was basically defiance was nearly driving his divine father to tears of mirth. He eventually got his answer, when Akatosh finally calmed enough for coherent speech and turned to face his son.

"I apologize," he chuckled. "It's been quite a while since I've had something to laugh about like _that_."

Ketar just gaped at him in confusion. "I don't understand."

Akatosh let out one last chuckle. "You think that I care about the fact that she's a vampire."

"…you don't?"

His head shook as he grinned.

"But…" Ketar frowned, "but Vyrthur said—"

"Vyrthur's mistake was believing that he understood my intentions."

Ketar's head shook slowly. " _I_ still don't understand."

Akatosh sighed. "Too many mistake my duty when it comes to Nirn. Tell me, what aspect of reality do I represent?"

He blinked. "Time, of course."

"Yes," the Aedra confirmed with a nod. "But time only _exists_ because of Nirn. As immortals, Aedra and Daedra are immune to its effects. Therefore, it is the existence of the mortal world, your world, that gives time meaning. Without life on Nirn, my duties would cease to be relevant. Therefore, my _true_ mission is…?"

Ketar's eyes widened in understanding. "The preservation of life."

Akatosh smiled. "Exactly. And I care not what form that life takes, so long as it abides by the terms of my mission." He frowned. "Vyrthur's problem was never his vampirism, but a condition that existed within him long before he was turned. Becoming an immortal vampire just gave his true taint time and condition to manifest on an even greater level."

Ketar's features shifted as more pieces began to fall into place. "His arrogance."

Akatosh nodded slowly. "Vyrthur lost sight of what it truly meant to be my Arch-Curate. He saw his power and position as something to be grasped, and as a result grew to lord himself above all others around him, so I allowed a situation to arise that would test the veracity of his faith in me."

"You let him be turned by one of his own initiates."

"Thereby forcing him to recognize his inadequacy and lean on me more than his own strength."

Ketar frowned. "But he didn't."

Akatosh sighed and looked down. "No. He did not. Instead, he allowed the very flaw I attempted to correct to consume him, thereby missing the whole point. His presumption of my intentions was colored by his inflated sense of self-importance, and led him down a dark road that consumed everything in his path."

"Including most of what could be the last Snow Elves in existence," Ketar added testily, "your devoted followers. If you're the god of time, how did you not see that coming?"

Akatosh's lips pursed. "Because time does not follow a single path. It is a river, with many branches and tributaries. Your study of the Dragon Breaks taught you that. As god of time, I cannot see the definite future, only possibilities, and how likely each is to occur." He waved to the side, where a window appeared in the Aether showing various moments from Ketar's life. "In your life alone, there are thousands, _millions_ of different branches that lead, in many cases, to drastically different outcomes. This is how I can guide the lives of the mortals under my protection—influencing and supporting them to nudge them toward one tributary or another."

"You say that like it's a game of chance."

A sigh. "Unfortunately, that's far more accurate than you know. My influence on your world must always pass through a medium, whether that's a person—" he waved to Ketar, then held out his hand and pulled his bow from the Aether, "—or an object." He waved the bow away and strode toward Ketar. "My point is that Vyrthur could have gone in either direction. Both possibilities were almost equal in probability. The bad was higher, but over time, I've learned to have faith in mortals, same as you. Without that, cynicism creeps in and saps the hope from your soul. And for a god, that has disastrous effects on your world."

Ketar sighed and looked away.

"Believe me, I spent years wishing that I could change Vyrthur's course, and all the pain he's caused, but I can't. And ultimately, what he destroyed, what he tried to corrupt, you _saved_." Akatosh smiled. "You have become… _far_ greater than even _I_ could have hoped." He placed his hands on Ketar's shoulders. "I could not be more proud."

Ketar's lips pursed tightly. "Even when it comes to Serana?"

He smiled wider. "Ketar, you and I are a great deal more alike than you think. To me, actions speak far louder than words or blood, and every step she has taken since you woke her has been in the service of life. Serana may be a child of Molag Bal, but her actions speak of loyalty to _my_ mission."

Kay blinked a few times. "But the sun—"

"Does a hot stove cease being a hot stove because you are a good person? The sun is what it is, and does not discriminate between good and bad, but shines its light on all." Akatosh's eyes warmed. "So, if your only hesitation was the question of whether or not I would approve, you can put your mind at ease. Your lover is nothing more or less than a hero."

He gulped and smiled, eyes misting over. "Yes…yes she is."

Akatosh arched an eyebrow and nodded to him. "She had a very good example."

Ketar blushed and averted his eyes.

The Aedra chuckled again. "To be honest, if you'd chosen anyone with lesser strength of character, we would be having a very different conversation."

Ketar shared in his father's laughter for a few moments. "Then…you approve?"

"Serana defends the innocent, and you love her. She makes you _happy_." He smiled. "How could I not?" A laugh. "Well, that and Mara would be very cross if I decided to start trouble over your relationship."

"Eh?"

His head shook slowly. "Long story. Suffice to say that my siblings have been…less than approving of your immense workload of late. Mara especially. 'Too much work, not enough play,' she says."

Ketar's lips quirked with a wry smile. "And Arkay?"

Akatosh groaned and scrubbed his face. "Ugh, don't get me started. He's been oscillating between spewing disgruntled comments about Serana and praising you to the skies for your heroism."

Ketar laughed. "So Florentius isn't so crazy after all."

Akatosh arched an eyebrow. "Oh no, he is. He just also happens to be telling the truth."

The Dragonborn shook his head slowly. "I honestly can't believe how strange my life has become."

The god frowned a little. "Well, keep your mind open, Ketar. Because it _will_ become stranger."

"Oh?"

He nodded slowly. "On that note, I have a gift for you."

Ketar smiled. "Knowing you approve of Serana is gift enough for me, but…" he shrugged, "I'm too polite to refuse."

Akatosh smiled as well, then took a deep breath and Spoke, his form shimmering with a much larger, draconic silhouette for just a moment. " _Mul-Qah-Diiv_."

Ketar's eyes doubled in size as his father's words were imprinted, not on stone or any solid surface, but directly on his mind. The whispers and echoes of the _Thu'um_ remained in his head for some time, flowing through his mind like gently rushing water until finally, they settled in place of a void he hadn't known existed, like a piece of himself that had been missing all his life.

Ketar blinked several more times, eyes eventually shifting back to Akatosh. "What was _that_?"

"That…was the final piece of your heritage. The final aspect of your dragon blood, and the key to unlocking your ultimate potential." He nodded to Ketar. "You will need it."

Ketar huffed absently in thought, then barked a small laugh. "You hand this gift to _all_ of your children?"

"There was…one other who learned that secret, a long time ago. One who may yet have a role to play in the days to come." He frowned, voice darkening. "But he did not learn it from me."

Ketar's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

Akatosh's lips pursed. "You'll see soon enough. But for now, rest. Enjoy your time with Serana." He smirked. "Get Mara to stop yelling at me." They both laughed, Akatosh's expression sharpening as they calmed. "But remain wary and alert. No matter how many battles you fight, Ketar, the world will always be a dangerous place. But continue to serve life," he placed a hand on the Dragonborn's shoulder, "and you will _never_ have to face it alone."

Kay smiled and nodded. "You have a deal."

He patted Ketar's shoulder and smiled. "Good man. Now, go back and join your lover." He winked. "It's almost sunset, after all."

Ketar chuckled and nodded.

Akatosh's expression sharpened. "I sense we won't be speaking again for some time, so…stay safe, and good luck."

He smirked and fingered the Nightingale amulet in his back pocket. "Don't think that'll be a problem."

A gentle smile. "Goodbye, son."

"Goodbye, father."

…

Ketar's hand left Auriel's Bow a split-second before his vision cleared to see the weapon sitting right where he'd first found it: pretty and golden on the altar of the final wayshrine. He frowned for a moment before realizing there were two pairs of eyes on him and turning to see Gelebor and Serana standing there. He glanced between them confusedly when he saw they weren't freaking out.

"How long was I gone?" he asked.

Serana and Gelebor exchanged a look before the latter turned back to him and blinked in confusion.

"Gone?" asked Gelebor. "You just laid the bow down and stepped away."

Ketar blinked. "Like…right now? Right this second?"

Serana arched an eyebrow. "Yeeees?" She frowned. "Are you feeling okay?"

Ketar looked at her, then back at the bow, and smiled. "Yeah…better than I've felt in a while."

"…well okay then."

He opened his mouth to say more, but felt a pulse in his back pocket and stopped short.

Serana noticed the violet glow coming from his belt and smiled when he gave her an apologetic look. "Say no more," she said with a raised hand.

Ketar smiled in thanks as she and Gelebor split off in separate directions, him toward his slate, her toward the balcony where she'd taken a nap last time, leaving Ketar at the wayshrine to answer the call from his amulet.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Heard about your victory from Lydia," said the voice on the other end. "Good for you, lad. Though it makes me wonder how exactly you managed to tear down an entire castle wall…"

Ketar's eyes rolled. "It was _part_ of a castle wall, and—you know what? It's not important. Is there something else you wanted to talk about, or was it just that?"

Brynjolf's voice took on a familiar tone of pure mischief. "Jarl Balgruuf didn't arrest me."

Immediately, Kay's attitude shifted. "You showed him the letter."

"And explained everything in detail—except your involvement, of course."

"And?"

Brynjolf started cackling maniacally. "You should've seen the look on his face, lad. Think of your reaction to her plot, then add screaming, yelling, and drawing a sword out of principle."

Ketar's eyebrows made a valiant effort to join his hairline. "So…he's on board?"

The thief kept laughing. "He was a hairsbreadth away from going to war before his housecarl—what was her name—"

"Irileth," Ketar supplied.

"Irileth, that's it—before she reminded him that would break the treaty you so painstakingly worked out."

His head shook slowly. "Geez…don't think _I've_ ever seen him like that, even when a dragon was threatening to burn down Whiterun."

"He took it _very_ personally."

"Good," replied Ketar, "means he'll be the one to deliver Maven to when the time comes."

"Deliver her?"

"You said it yourself, Bryn. We can't kill her. She's too important to too many people, not the least of whom is Ingun. The Stormcloaks have no quarrel with Maven, Riften's jarl is utterly oblivious, and Maven has the Empire eating out of her hand. Balgruuf is neutral ground, too uninterested in politics to be beholden to either side, and too stubborn to bend to anything less than lawful interference. And now that Maven's threatened his Hold, he's gonna make sure the full weight of the law lands squarely on her shoulders."

"…okay then. Sounds like you've got all this figured out. Just a matter of freezing her assets now."

"And extraditing her to Whiterun."

"Aye. I've got people who can handle that, but separating her from her guards will be tricky."

"Leave that to me," Ketar said malevolently. "I've been aching to take that bitch down since the day we met."

" _Now_ we're talking. See you soon then?"

"Yep. But right now…" Kay turned to the side, eyes widening when he caught sight of the sunset—and the person between him and it. "I'm staring at the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on."

Brynjolf chuckled. "Then go tell her."

Ketar smiled. "I will. Tell Lydia I said hi."

"You got it, Ketar. Get back safe."

"I will. Goodbye, Brynjolf."

And with that, Ketar returned Nocturnal's Embrace to his belt and made his way toward the balcony.

…

Serana was staring out at the horizon, a few degrees off from the sun (so as not to blind herself) when she heard familiar light steps approaching from behind. She turned to see Ketar approaching from the steps, a small smile on his face. The vampire smiled back and held out her hand, gently taking his and interlacing their fingers. They both turned to face the horizon, Serana leaning her head against the side of his chest. They were silent as they watched the sunset, for a good long while, the sun sinking noticeable bit before one of them spoke.

"I've never liked the sunset."

Ketar blinked and looked down at her.

Serana shrugged. "Even before I was a vampire, I've never liked this time of day. During the day, the sun is fine, really. But around dawn and dusk it gets… _really_ bright, blindingly so, in fact. Too bright." She wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him sideways, eyes still on the horizon. "The colors are nice, but the sheer amount of light has always been off-putting to me." Sera looked up at him, eyes and voice soft. "But traveling with you, getting to know you…I think I've gained a greater appreciation for it."

He blinked again and cocked his head slightly. "Why's that?"

Serana's lips quirked upward as she turned to face him fully, stepping between him and the horizon and clasping her hands together around the back of his neck. "Because I found a different direction to look."

"…huh?"

Her smile widened slightly. "See, I thought the only direction with anything worth seeing, even if too bright, was to the west." Her head tilted to one side. "But I was wrong. There's something…mysterious and…appealing about the eastern sky at dusk. Something that tells of unexplored depths and untold beauty." Her right hand drifted up to stroke his cheek as her eyes roved his face. "And…" she gently tapped his face with her pointer, "nowhere do I see that more than when I have this view, right here." Her eyes shone with pure adoration. "Did you know that your eyes aren't just the color of the ocean? They also mimic the sky at dusk. And when I look into them, like this…" she shuddered, "I'm lost. I can't even breathe." She gulped and looked down briefly before returning her gaze to his. "So…" Serana smiled delicately, "I guess what I'm saying is, your eyes at sunset overwhelm me too."

Ketar stared at her, lips parted slightly in a way that made Serana want to kiss him, hold him, and devour him all at once.

So she did all three.

A short lunge forward and upward eliminated any remaining distance between them, as she'd intended. There was no hesitation, no gentle build, only the ferocious passion that came from a deep-seated hunger she didn't even know she had. More than blood, more than affection, more than anything she'd ever consumed; there was something there, just under the surface that she craved more than anything in her centuries of life. But no matter how hard she tried, no matter how deep she dove, she just couldn't seem to get it, to _take_ it. And then, a full minute of lips, tongue, and not breathing in, she realized that, perhaps, it wasn't about taking anything, but _giving_.

Serana pulled away from him, the taste of his touch still on her lips as they both breathed hard and she opened her eyes to see his nearly overcome by a pair of fully dilated pupils. His heavy breathing washed over her, sweet and hot and enticing. His gaze warmed her to the bone, those impossibly deep, dark eyes of his holding so—much—emotion. They held affection, and care, and promise, both to protect her and to destroy anyone who so much as _touched_ her wrong. They held peace, and life, and…

"I love you."

The words passed from Ketar's lips to her ears like sweet balm, sending a spike of something sharp and visceral through her body while at the same time gently pushing at the void she so desperately wanted to fill, but couldn't for a wall long erected.

Kay blinked and pursed his lips, eyes so soft and vulnerable. "Does that still frighten you?"

Serana's breathing shuddered as she held his gaze. The wall pushed back against a harder shove, but cracked all the same as she quietly uttered, "Yes."

His eyes flickered with a small stab of hurt, but remained tender.

She gently bit her lower lip, her walls starting to fray and crumble. "But…that's okay."

Sera closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the hunger inside fighting to get out as Ketar's love pushed its way in. When they opened, her gaze locked with his, and she lost the ability to breathe as the wellspring of his heart broke free and poured out through those portals to his soul. With a small shudder and gentle intake of breath, there was one final push from inside—and the wall utterly disintegrated.

"Because I think I love you too."

…

A complete and utter silence occupied the immediate moments that followed. It was as if the whole world had stood still, because neither of them could move. Not a sound passed between or around them. No chirping of birds, no whisper of wind, not even their breathing. A spell cast without magic took hold of them, two abandoned children, buffeted by life, molded by tragedy, separated by centuries yet brought together by an impossible twist of fate. One, a Son of Akatosh, the other a Daughter of Coldharbour; the unlikeliest of friends, yet they had become so much more, and endured so much together, saved each other in far more ways than one.

And together, they saved the world.

So, to say what he had, and to hear those very words pass her lips in return…how could he _not_ have held her like the most precious stone in existence and proceeded to kiss her senseless? He must have overdone it a bit, because he was pretty senseless too just a few seconds in. Somewhere between the lack of air and his racing mind's recounting of the last couple of minutes, a laugh bubbled up deep in his chest and forced him to break away from her just a bit, their foreheads still pressed together.

Serana let out a few heavy breaths before asking, "What is it?"

Ketar's dark blue eyes slid open to gaze into hers to see an incredible love and affection dancing in their depths. And then he remembered the reason for stopping and began chuckling.

She blinked and pulled back a bit more in confusion. " _What_?"

He let out another couple of chortles before giving his reply with a wry smirk. "You 'think'?"

Sera stared up at him for a few seconds before groaning and faceplanting into his chest, her hands pressed against his pectorals. "Damn it, Kay…we were having a _moment_."

That just made him laugh harder. "I'm so sorry!" he managed between uncontrollable cackles.

"No you're not," she mumbled into his chest. "You ruined it…"

Ketar's laughter slowed to a stop, a wide, warm smile taking over his face as he held her a small distance off and gently tipped her head up to meet his eyes. "Did I?"

Serana's lips pursed tightly, one of her upper fangs visible when she sucked her lower lip into her mouth. "Stop _doing_ that."

The corner of his lips quirked upward. "Doing what?"

" _That_. That adoring gaze that makes me not be mad at you."

Ketar chuckled. "Now why would I ever put away such an effective means of defending myself?"

She pouted and gave him a deadpan look.

He grinned and pulled her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her pouting lips and immediately deflating her. Ketar drew back just enough to glimpse her eyes, which were soft and beautiful and more vulnerable than he'd ever seen. And the very sight of them forced him to speak.

"I love you, Sera," he said softly, voice deep and smooth and filled with every emotion he could pour into it.

She smiled widely, forehead pressed against his, and breathed her answer against his lips. "I love you too, Kay."

…

And for those two, that was all the time their words were given. The only sounds that echoed across that balcony were the gentle, sweet embrace of their lips, and the rustling of their clothes as they held each other closer. Ketar cradled Serana to his chest, his entire body, shoulders, arms, and all; molding itself around her smaller form. Her arms wrapped tightly around his midsection, hands pressing into the hard leather protecting his back and the steely cords of muscle she knew from firsthand experience were buried underneath. But there was no true physicality there, no mischief or humor or carnal desire.

No hunger.

The only thing that remained were two scarred souls, wrapped in each other's warm embrace, no longer victim to the crushing loneliness so common to an extraordinary existence. Ultimately, they knew their fight wasn't yet over. Monsters like Vingalmo and Alduin remained in the world, and as long as they did, they would never be done. But for the first time in a long time, the future wasn't something to be feared. For the first time in a long time, they allowed themselves pleasant flights of fancy, visions of waking up to a life with more than just their own incredible talents to keep them company, to a life where they were challenged and pushed by another who they considered their equal.

An equal who wasn't afraid to be strong _or_ show their vulnerability. How exactly that would work in the long run, neither could possibly have known, but they had the rest of their lives ahead of them to figure it out. Would they or their relationship survive that far? Only time would tell. For Ketar Niel Dov, where Serana Volkihar was concerned, he was all in. And as the sun sank behind the snow-capped Jerall Mountains, he knew she felt the same way.

At that particular moment, that was more than enough for him.

* * *

AN: A little under five months ago, I started this story expecting not to get far before losing inspiration because I was coming off almost half a year's worth of virulent writer's block. Boy have I never been more wrong. I think that's the fastest I've ever finished a story since _Transformers: Partners_. This makes a grand total of three stories I've ever finished on this site. What I'm trying to say is: I _love_ this story. I loved every second of writing it, even if it made my hands hurt and my shoulders cramp up like nothing else.

But most of all, I loved seeing how you guys responded to it, how it affected you and lifted spirits all around. That, right there, _that_ is why I do this even when I'm exhausted off a long week and cramped in more places than anyone should be. And that's why I'll continue to do it into the future, as long as I have the strength and inspiration.

On that note, I'm hoping to get the next story started soon and keep it going as long as inspiration holds. Like I said earlier, I'll be calling it _Children of Akatosh_ , so keep an eye on my author page and be sure to follow me so you know when it comes out.

In other news, since I mentioned LOTR at the beginning of the chapter, this story, end to end, has more words than _The Fellowship of the Ring_. So…hehe…good company?

Thank all of you who stuck with me long enough to reach the end. I know my stories are longer than most novels, and a serious time and attention commitment, so…thanks. And I hope you stay with me for more in the future.

From all of us here on the East Coast, happy sunsets.

Drake out.

Musical Inspirations:

Resident Evil 6 - Trouble with Women: start-1:17—the wall crumbles/outpouring of affection, 1:17-end—"I love you"/final sunset/finis

 _ **UPDATE - 7/27/17**_

 _Children of Akatosh_ is now up on my author page. If you want more of Ketar and Serana's story, head on over and check it out!


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